


Shades of Blue

by self_indulgent_authorship



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: (because I’m WEAK), (both are mild), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Memories, Everything Hurts, Fix-It of Sorts, I do what I want, I promise, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Link (Legend of Zelda) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Link (Legend of Zelda) Needs a Hug, Lots of memories, M/M, Memory Loss, Oh and Also, Panic Attacks, Psychological Trauma, Revali is best boyfriend RT if you agree, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Sharing a Bed, Sign Language, Slow To Update, Some Humor, The Author Regrets Nothing, There’s a lot of crying in this, These tags are now a certified mess, Watch me twist canon until it breaks, Zelda ain’t perfect in this, but she gets better, but to be fair Link has a lot to be sad about, okay I’m done now lol, she’s kind of a brat, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2019-11-23 13:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 82,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18152690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/self_indulgent_authorship/pseuds/self_indulgent_authorship
Summary: Link's life is haunted by shades of blue.Specifically, Sheikah blue. The shrines are blue. The towers are blue. The bombs are blue. His old tunic is blue...A Guardian's beam is blue.Everything he can't remember is blue, and he hates it. He hates these half remembered fears, these vague spaces left behind by a tragedy he doesn't remember. He doesn't remember any of it, except a sense of something (someone) missing.The voices all tell him he'll remember eventually. Eventually couldn't come soon enough.(SLOOOOOOW updates, but still going)





	1. Waking Up

_Where are you?_

_Where..._

_Where did you go?_

_Have to...find you..._

_Supposed to find you, when..._

_Remember, remember—have to..._

When he opened his eyes, he was alone.

Something about that phenomenon felt...wrong. Like he had fallen asleep expecting someone there...like he had...like someone was supposed to be here. Someone was...wait...something was wrong. He had been...he couldn’t recall. He couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember...anything? All he had was this vague recollection, a half baked thought that he had been...waiting for someone? Here?

But where was here? Who was that someone his mind was foolishly expecting?

Who was _he?_

Trying to cease the encroaching panic at _that_ terrible thought, he blinked the daze out of his eyes, focusing his blurry gaze upward as he dragged his sluggish thoughts back into order. There was a horribly bright light coming from...somewhere. It was blue. A blinding, garish blue, staring down at him from the ceiling of whatever strange place he found himself in. He hated it. His vision blurred again, and he rubbed dazedly at his eyes as he sat up, looking around the dark...cave, that he found himself in. He was in a cave.

Why he thought his location odd, when he couldn’t even recall his own name, he really couldn’t say. All he had was a fuzzy sense that something was amiss, with where he was. He was not meant to be here. Not here, and not alone. Certainly not alone.

It felt as if he had been asleep for a terribly long time, drifting in something he couldn’t see, lulled off until nothing was left of him but his scrambled consciousness and a sense of something missing.

And oh, that sense was massive. Less than a minute of conscious thought and he could already tell with sweeping clarity that there was a terrible amount of information he was missing. There was a swath of space in his hazy thoughts left devastatingly blank, thousands of questions reverberating off the emptiness and demanding answers he could not supply.

His breathing had picked up pace without his notice, and he shook his head at himself. He needed to focus, not drown in the sense of dread lurking in the back of his muddled thoughts. There was no sense in thinking of these things now, not when he had so little idea of where he was. A deep, unbreakable part of him was telling him to calm himself, to focus on what was in front of him, the task at hand, orient and understand. There was a time for panic, and moments after waking in a strange cave was decidedly _not_ the time.

What had drawn him awake in the first place? There had been something, something beyond whatever strange draining sound he had faintly heard as he opened his eyes. Something had really caught his weary attention, and had carefully pulled him from the thickness of death like sleep. He’d followed it here, whatever it was...though he had very little idea of where he had been prior to this moment. And he still didn’t quite know where _here was._

No, no he was _not_ going to think about that. Panic later, understand _now._

As if in response to his meandering confusion, he heard a voice—a far off, echoing sort of voice that was familiar and yet...not.

 _Wake up, Link,_ it whispered, a hint of desperation in its musical tone.

That was it. That was his name. How could he have forgotten his own name? He’d never had another. It was only Link, he was only ever Link. Nothing else could have been his name, and yet he had utterly failed to remember it until this strange, oddly familiar girl’s voice had told him it as she whispered for him to wake up. It was _her_ voice he had followed out of that seeping darkness. _Her_ voice that had pulled him from the slumber he had somehow ended up in.

But...that wasn’t the right voice. She wasn’t the someone he had...been waiting for? Expected? He wasn’t quite sure how she failed his scrambled mind’s test, to be honest, but she still was not the correct voice. Something in him _demanded_ that she was not who he had been listening for...at least not in his deepest thoughts.

Why on earth did he think that? He frowned as he rubbed again at his eyes, looking blearily around the cave as he thought. What should make this voice any more _wrong_ than if it had been another? He had only just recalled his own name. It was ridiculous to have such thoughts seconds after waking in a strange, dim cave with nothing and no one.

He had no one. But he had the sense that he _used_ to have someone...someone of great importance.

What gave him this overwhelming sense that even as he drowned in neverending darkness, he had been calling out (desperately, he had a feeling) to someone else? He had received reply, thank...whoever it was he had to thank, but still he had not been seeking this girl in his thoughts. He had been...oh, it was so close and yet so far, he had them and then they slipped away from him. Still, he knew she was not them. He had called out for another. But why should he have expected...someone else?

Why should he have expected someone at all?

Where was he?

What was...what was going on?

 _Link,_ the voice said again, imploring.

Right. Right. No sense in sitting...wherever he was...just to continue being confused. He had to...find a way out of here, and then...well, he would sort that out as it came. But he wouldn’t sort a single thing out if he kept sitting here in this strangely lit cave for no reason.

Looking around once more, he lifted himself from the odd place he had been laying. There wasn’t much in the cave, except an oddly sectioned off wall (likely a door, although he had no clue why he thought such) and a glowing pedestal of some kind not far from it. It shone with the same light as the rest of the cave, but there was something resting in the top of the pedestal that drew his eye. Pushing himself to his feet, he wandered over, glad to have something to focus on, to quiet the empty spaces in his memory.

As he came upon the strange pedestal, it suddenly flashed a brighter blue. In a bout of sheer (and unexplainable) panic, he flinched away from the terminal, stumbling back a step and breathing fast. His heart was pounding audibly in his ears, and his gaze was stuck on the pedestal, wide eyed and shaking.

What on...why did he just...it hadn’t even done a thing to him, and he was cowering from it like a child.

Something vague flashed before his eyes, a fragment of some...memory, maybe? A nightmare? He didn’t know, but it was gone before he had the chance to understand it. All he had time to catch was cold, and pain, and far too much of that same garish blue light. Then it was gone, and he was left reeling in this dim cave, hugging himself and breathing fast.

Why did he have such a drastic reaction to a flashing blue light? And what had that...vision, he supposed...why was that so filled with that light—and why did it terrify him? Well...it hardly mattered. It was over now. It was over.

He didn’t want that to happen again.

In the midst of his half panic, the pedestal’s light had dimmed once more, and something in it began to turn. There was a faint clicking sound, and then something lifted out from the top of the pedestal, glowing a rather pleasant (thankfully not blue) orange. The object was covered in strange symbols, predominantly something that greatly resembled an eye, glowing a much softer blue than the pedestal itself—and it was a flat sort of color—there was no change to it, no rise and fall like the lights at the edge of the room.

He stared warily at it for a moment, but nothing happened. No horrible flashing, and (he didn’t know why he expected it, but) no pain or anything of the sort. The strange object just sat there in the pedestal, glowing softly, without shifting. Perhaps that was why it didn’t bother him so much...the fact that this little rectangular...thing...sat and glowed blankly at him. Although he had so little clue why anything bothered him at all that he didn’t feel qualified to say exactly what about this strange object _didn’t_ frighten him.

 _That is a Sheikah Slate,_ the voice from afar said softly. A shift had happened somewhere, and he got the sense that this girl had seen his panic, softened her tone even more in response. _Take it. It will help guide you after your long slumber._

He frowned at the voice, wondering at this girl’s vague phrasing. _Long slumber._ What did that mean? He needed _answers_ not...strange attempts at comfort. Because he could tell that this girl, whoever she was, was attempting to calm him somehow. Could she see him?

What did she want with him, anyway? He trusted her (reasons unknown) but that didn’t mean he understood why she was speaking to him, pulling him from the ether and prodding him along.

But there were more pressing things to think about than this girl’s intentions. She had, after all, somehow managed to wake him from his death-like sleep. He knew such a feat took effort. Not to mention the fact that whoever this girl was, he had the sense that she was quite a distance from him, and yet still able to speak to him as if she were a few feet away. She was guiding him far more than this supposed Sheikah Slate was.

He stared at the small object jutting out from the pedestal for another second of hesitation before reaching for it, pulling it from the terminal with surprising ease. It was quite small, smooth and dark like the walls of this odd cave, but as he’d noticed before, the glow from it seemed softer, more flat. He was glad for that, at least, though he had no idea why.

The slate began to hum as he turned it over in his hands, and suddenly a portion of it came to life, glowing a dark blue. An insignia briefly flitted across the surface, the same as had seen on the back of the slate, though this time the eye was in blue rather than orange. A sort of menu appeared, but he had less than a second to look at it before there was a heavy thunk, and the door at the front of the room began to slide open. Hoping for an escape from this cave (it was beginning to make him nervous, and he really couldn’t say why) he hurried toward the door, still holding the slate in both hands.

Rather than an exit, however, he found the door opening on a short corridor. It was as dimly lit as the first small room had been, pale blue lights rising and falling in brightness around the edges, giving the already drafty corridor a frigid feeling. There were crates scattered about, looking weatherworn and decrepit, and two chests shut tight just by the small set of stairs. Taking the slate in one hand, he shuffled over to them, curiosity getting the best of him.

The locks were rusted off, and so with some effort he forced the chests open, finding a worn out shirt and set of pants inside. They were both threadbare (and strangely too small, but he wasn’t sure why he thought that strange...they were clothes from a closed off, drafty cave, there was no reason for them to fit him) but he pulled them on anyway, glad for the mediocre warmth of the fabric even if it was barely better than before. The crates, he discovered, were empty. Perhaps they had held something once, but nothing was there now. Just dust and moldy smelling wood.

Brushing his hands off and picking up the slate once again, he turned and gave the little corridor another once over. All that was left was another terminal and the door at the opposite end. This terminal, however, was glowing the bright orange of the Sheikah Slate, not blue like the other. It was simpler as well—it didn’t look like it could hold the slate, or rotate as the other did. There was only that ever present eye symbol, glowing brightly through the darkness on the flat surface of the terminal.

 _Hold the Sheikah Slate up to the pedestal,_ the girl said. _That will show you the way._

Unintentionally, he stepped back from the terminal, holding tighter to the slate in his hands, gaze still stuck on the (thankfully) orange glow of the eye symbol. What was he doing? Clearly this was the only way out of the cave, if this terminal was anything like the last had been. Doing as the girl said would open the door, would let him out of this place.

He wanted out of this place.

But if this terminal was like the other, then that horrible blue light would come back. That...memory would come back. He didn’t want that at all.

Glancing just once more at the slate in his hands, he steeled himself for the inevitable and stepped forward again. There was no reason to be afraid of this tiny terminal. It couldn’t do a single thing to him, and yet here he was, hesitating to do the one thing he had been told to do (the one thing he could do, really) all because of this oddly debilitating fear of...something in his past. A vague notion of something that must have happened, but he had no idea what exactly it was, or why he was so terrified of it.

The part of him that had dragged him from his panic earlier found his actions useless. Cowering from a harmless terminal, all because of a flash of blue light that hadn’t even touched him was foolish, embarrassing even. But who did he have to embarrass? There was no one here, and he had no scale to judge his actions on.

He was alone, after all.

Nodding a little to himself, he stepped carefully over to the pedestal, grip deadly right on the Sheikah Slate. He stared down at the glowing eye, then toward the door, and finally back at the slate again. With a steadying breath (and more than his fair share of inexplicable trembling) he shut his eyes tight and practically slammed the slate down on the terminal’s smooth surface.

There was a chime, identical to the one that had rung through his ears when the last terminal had shone brighter, and then the clunk of the door pulling open. Cautiously, he pulled the Sheikah Slate away from the terminal and pried his eyes open.

Bright light was pouring in the door, white and warm and _that was sunlight._

The exit. Finally. _Finally._

He didn’t give the voice a chance to nudge him along again, shoving the slate onto the strap of the shabby belt he’d found and scrambling out of the corridor. Faintly, he felt water splashing up against him as he stomped through a puddle, but he was too focused on _getting out_ to really care. He hurried his way up a short sheet of rock and tumbled onto muddy grass, but he didn’t care. Stumbling to his feet once more, he practically sprinted from the cave, bursting out into the sunlight and coming to a screeching halt at the sight laid out before him.

He found himself on the edge of a high cliff, tucked into the side of a mountain. Sprawling outward from where he was, he found a mass of green—grass, trees, a thin patch of forest just below the ledge he was on—then lower, farther out, a massive, seemingly endless field. Mountains were dotted around the edges in the distance, seemingly in all shades of rock. He could just make out the shape of a burning volcano to the northeast, snow capped peaks to the northwest, and who knew how many other things in the directions he couldn’t clearly make out. The sun shone brightly here, and the air was warm as he looked around. Frankly, he was stunned.

Something pulled at him as he looked around at the land spreading outward as far as he could see. Something tugged at those dark, empty spaces in his thoughts—and for a flash, the world shifted.

Clear skies became stormy, blurring and flickering as he struggled to focus—light turned to darkness, warmth into cold, and absence of feeling into terrible, unfathomable pain. It was exactly the same as he had felt in the cave when the terminal flashed at him, only this was far more intense. The chill was seeping into him, and he thought he heard voices, a terrifying mechanical whirring, and that awful _light—_

Just as quickly as it had come, the hellish vision was gone, and he was left shivering in the heat, eyes fixed on the shadowy form of a castle, at the northernmost point he could see. It loomed at the horizon, dark and dismal and—

He looked away quickly, hands pulling at his shirt, half expecting to find it...he didn’t know, but whatever his body thought was wrong was not there. He was fine. Alone, utterly baffled, and shaken by the half remembered nightmare, but uninjured. Breathing deeply, he let go of the hem of the shirt as a breeze picked up, brushing stray leaves past him in the wind.

It was quiet here, wherever he found himself exactly. He could hear birds chirping, and the distant sound of churning water, the occasional rustling of grass, but besides that, there was nothing. None of that awful clicking whir that still rang in his ears (he was trying to ignore it) and no voice of a distant girl he couldn’t quite recognize.

It would seem...he was alone again.

Or, perhaps not.

As he looked around the clearing below him once more, his eyes landed on a shadowy figure near an outcropping of rock. The old man had an unlit lantern in his hand and wore a heavy hood, and Link could not see his expression, but the old man appeared to be watching him. For how long, he couldn’t say. Before he could settle on how odd it was, the old man turned away, using the lantern like a walking stick as he moseyed back toward a small overhang of rock.

Frowning slightly (and wanting nothing more than to turn away from the massive view of that terrible castle in the distance) Link turned to follow him. It seemed the girl’s voice was gone, and so he had nowhere else to turn for answers to the dozens of questions flying through his thoughts.

Why had he been sleeping in that strange cave? Where _was_ he anyway? (And the more existential varieties—who was he, besides just his name, where did he belong, how did he get here, because this felt wrong on every level, not just in the sense that he wasn’t meant to wake up _here,_ but he...he wasn’t sure, exactly, but...) There were too many questions to ask of course (and the old man wasn’t likely to know all the answers), but if he could just sort out the simplest things, then maybe he could...figure out the rest.

Nodding to himself, Link began to wander away from the little cliff he had emerged onto.

It felt...inexplicably good to walk around this place, to feel dirt and grass beneath his feet and feel the sun on his face. He was beginning to get the sense once more that he really had been asleep for a great length of time, but it was quickly becoming overshadowed by another heavy thought—that he hadn’t expected to wake up _at all._ Opening his eyes (even if it was in a cave that felt wrong, somehow, and to a voice that was not the one he so desperately needed to hear) had been...a relief. That feeling only grew as he walked, to the point that if he managed to pull his thoughts away from the darkness of uncertainty for long enough, he almost felt normal.

The feeling of unease was still there, and he doubted it would leave. But the longer he spent out here, in the sunlight, walking and breathing and picking his way through a landscape both foreign and comfortably familiar, the quieter those empty spaces in his mind seemed to become. Sure, he remembered almost nothing of himself, besides his name and vague ideas that he couldn’t form to words, but surely those things would come back.

Right?

“Well met, stranger!”

Link turned his attention back to the present, and the old man looking quizzically at him from the other side of a campfire. He was sat under an overhang of mossy rock, hidden in his thick hood and the shadows of the alcove, but Link could see his expression far more clearly here than he could on the cliff.

“It’s rather unusual to see another soul in these parts,” he grumbled, watching Link with a bit of a downturned expression. “Particularly those appearing from sealed caves.”

Link only stared at him with a slight frown. There was something...vaguely familiar about this man, almost the same as that strange girl’s voice from before. He couldn’t place just what about him it was he recognized (and he was _not_ the person he was still stubbornly searching for, that he was sure of implicitly) and he couldn’t be certain he was correct in his recognition (he wasn’t certain of practically anything at this point).

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the old man said with a smirk, unphased by Link’s deepening confusion at his odd words. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just an old fool who’s been living here, alone, for quite some time now...what brings a bright-eyed young man like you to a place like this?”

He looked away, eyes drawn inexplicably to the west, but the view was not as visible from here as it had been on the cliff earlier. There were too many trees in the way to see what he wanted to (even if he could remember what exactly it was...it seemed he had stumbled upon an old habit that he didn’t know the reason behind). Unfortunately he could still pick out the towers of that terrible castle in the distance, and he turned from it just as quickly as he had before.

Almost of their own accord, his hands rose without a thought as he looked again at the old man.

_“Where are we?”_

The old man stared at his hands for a few seconds, a frown briefly crossing his face. “Answering a question with another...I suppose that is fair enough. As I doubt our meeting here to be a simple coincidence, I shall tell you.”

He glanced briefly around the place before his eyes settled on Link again. “This is the Great Plateau. According to legend, it was here that the kingdom of Hyrule was born. Since the decline of the kingdom one hundred years ago, however, this place has sat abandoned, in a state of decay.”

The old man sighed, and for a moment looked quite weary. But he seemed to brush it off quickly, pushing himself to his feet and waving for Link to follow him. Having nothing better to do (and a strange feeling in his chest about this place) Link followed him to the edge of the overhang, where the old man stopped and pointed out a dilapidated building in the distance.

“That temple there...it is called the Temple of Time. Long ago, it was the sight of many sacred ceremonies...quite a beautiful structure,” he said, a certain wistfulness to his voice as he stared at the building. “And yet...now it has become another forgotten entity. A mere ghost of its former glory...”

Link was quiet, staring at the old building. Moss was crawling its way up the face of the temple, and many of the structures near the front of the building were crumbling, chunks of brick and glass falling strewn about while others were just...gone. Decay might have been an understatement—that building looked forcibly destroyed...

“I shall be here for some time,” the old man said, leaning on the unlit lantern and watching him carefully. “Please let me know if I may be of service to you somehow.”

Link nodded, and the old man seemed satisfied, sitting down by his fire once again. Unsure what else to do, Link turned back to the meandering path that lead to the rest of the plateau. As he started off, the Sheikah Slate hummed at his side, and he looked down at it curiously before taking it out and examining it warily.

It had drawn up another screen without his notice, lit up a soft dark blue at him as he pulled it out. The screen appeared in strangely sectioned off lines. There was a light yellow icon near the center, an arrow of sorts that shifted as he moved the slate in his hands. It took him a few seconds too long to realize that this strangely broken image was meant to be some kind of map, and the little icon near the center was his current location.

 _The Sheikah Slate has been damaged,_ a warning at the bottom of the screen read.

Well...that wasn’t ideal. But there was a glowing gold mark on the slate as well, not very far from where he was at the moment. It was smaller than his icon, round and blinking slowly at him.

 _Head for the point marked there,_ the girl’s voice said from afar, gentle still, and quieter than before. _Tread carefully, Link._

Turning the slate in his hands once more, he managed to find the general direction of the glowing gold point, and looked north. Down the overgrown path, across a stretch of decayed rubble and swaying grass, there was a massive cluster of tan rock. It looked a bit out of place amidst all the greenery, and he could see something just under it, though it was too far to make out exactly. That had to be the place the gold point was designating, blinking at him as he stared at it.  Putting the slate back on his belt, Link set off, walking carefully down the dilapidated stone path.

The sun appeared from behind the clouds again as he walked, and for a moment he paused. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he wasn’t keen on questioning all of his actions. It was a waste of time, and this wasn’t anything dangerous—to stand here and enjoy the sun for a few seconds peace before wandering off into some unknown task given by a mysterious voice. No, he could spare a few seconds to just stand here on the worn stones and feel the sun on his face, and the wind in his hair.

There came a funny sinking feeling then, a pang brought about by the sensation that he really had not expected to wake from his sleep. Whatever had happened to him in his mysterious past, it had been bad enough to make him fall into that dark ether believing himself to go there for eternity. It was a dismal thought to have when he knew so little about himself.

By some sheer luck (at least, so it seemed) he found himself awake again, opening his eyes in a strange cave with nothing and no one to orient himself somehow. He had no recollection of how he came to be here, or where here was, or who he was.

And most naggingly in the back of his mind, he could not remember who he had been...trying to find, he supposed, in that odd sleep. It was foggy, this sense he had of the person he was so desperate to find while floating in that strange space between the blank past and the current moment—but it was persistent nonetheless. He wanted to find them—more than he wanted to learn his past, more than he wanted to know who the girl speaking was—more than anything, he wanted to find them.

His memories were filled with phantom spaces, little pieces of a half recollected thought that seemed to run in the background even now as he walked toward the edge of the plateau. Little things he could remember, like his name now, and (though he thought almost nothing of it) how to sign properly. But the larger swaths of emptiness—his entire past, how he had come here, what the strange vision of all that painful blue light was, this person he so desperately needed to find—they were the pieces of him he knew mattered most, and they were the most evasive to him.

He didn’t know how to recover those pieces. He didn’t know how to find the person haunting his thoughts even now. He did not have the slightest idea of what to do with himself, where to start trying to put the pieces of his past back into place.

But following that girl’s voice...making his way out into that sprawling green field far below him, and even further...it was as good a place to start as any. And it was all he had to follow.

A strange sound came from his left, drawing his thoughts back to the current moment. He paused on the path, looking into the tree line warily. The Sheikah Slate hummed again, but his eyes were fixed on a patch of red mixed in with all the greenery, looking very out of place.

There was...something crouched next to a tree there, snorting and grumbling, claw like hands swinging a stick around as beady blue eyes swept the path in an irregular rhythm. It looked like a strange sort of...pig monster, with a short snout, a wide face, stubby legs, and sharp fingers.

He had seen these before. Hundreds of times. He’d fought them, although he hadn’t the slightest clue where this sudden conviction had come from. No memory came with the realization, but his hands were itching for some kind of weapon now, something to defend himself with. His mind was buzzing with dozens of ways to get around the monster (a bokoblin, some fuzzy part of him insisted) or to get rid of it if he could find something to attack it with.

Glancing around once more he found almost nothing he could use. There was an axe stuck into a tree stump not too far off, but it looked heavy and dull—he would have to use two hands just to swing it. For some reason he didn’t like that idea. No, no, he needed something lighter, more efficient—and a shield, if he could manage it.

He wanted a shield very badly, now that he thought about it. He suddenly felt terribly exposed, standing here with nothing but a strange (and conveniently damaged) slate and his bare hands. With the remembrance that there were beasts roaming these forests, old routines were lit up in his mind—he needed a shield, and a sword of some kind, anything really, as long as he could swing it and keep his grip on a shield. He would have to find some kind of equipment before leaving this place...

The bokoblin had not noticed him yet, still preoccupied with swinging its stick at passing bugs, grunting and shaking its head. Without a thought, Link crouched low to the ground and slowly started to creep away, keeping his gaze fixed entirely on the snorting beast in case he needed to make a break for it. He hardly made a sound except for the low rustling of the tall grass as he slipped through it. The slate hummed again at his side, but he ignored it, focused completely on the monster until he was a good fifteen or so feet away from it. Satisfied, he got to his feet quietly and turned back toward the marked point where he needed to go.

As he walked, he managed to find a rather strange wooden club, discarded by a careless bokoblin that was chasing after a boar and screeching occasionally as it failed to catch the animal. Link watched the beast for several seconds before taking its forgotten weapon and creeping away. He paused to examine it as he came back onto the path.

The club was by no means a good weapon, made of rough wood with a haphazard handle of sorts and a bluntly cut top. There was some ratty string wrapped around its base, making a poor grip, but better than if it had just been the splintering wood. It likely wouldn’t last very long, but it was light and thick at the top, good enough for a few hits. Link shook his head wearily as he moved on. It would have to do for now.

It felt much better to have something in his hand, something to knock beasts out of the way if he needed to. And while he still (desperately) wanted a shield, he was thankful to have something at least. Either way, he didn’t have to wait very long to find better equipment along the path.

As he reached the base of the hill, the path opened up into what must have been a courtyard at some point. Now, it was just an overgrown little field, stones covered in moss and grass growing between them. Several bokoblins were scattered about, two on a little hill to his right, and one directly in front of the cluster of tan rock he knew he had to reach. The space was too open for him to creep past them. There would be no silent retreat this time.

He would have to fight them.

Spinning the wooden club around in his hand, he felt (for the first time since opening his eyes in that cave) completely sure of his next move. Keeping his position some distance from the little huddle of monsters, he scanned the area quickly, looking for the best approach.

The bokoblin nearest to his destination had a sword and shield—two things he very much needed. It was crouched on the ground, its poor vision aimed in his general direction, but it had not noticed him yet. There were two more of the beasts on a hill nearby, shooting arrows at the flowers below them. Link smirked for a moment as he watched them. These monsters had never been very bright.

Skirting around on the heavier armed bokoblin, Link spun the club again and made his move. There was a startled snort as the shortsighted beast finally realized someone was there to attack it. With a screech, it swung its sword wildly, and Link quickly avoided it, rolling to the side and coming back to his feet. A quick blow to the bokoblin’s left arm and it dropped its shield, which Link quickly grabbed, slinging his hand through the grip and facing the monster once more.

Furious, the bokoblin narrowed its beady eyes at him and screeched again, flinging itself at Link with reckless abandon. Link dodged its foolish slash, hitting it hard on the back of the head. The monster stumbled, but got to back onto its stubborn feet, swinging its sword with a grunt.

But Link had a shield now, and he realized very quickly why he had wanted one so badly.

Acting on instinct, Link waited. He waited for what should have been too long, waited until the bokoblin’s dirty blade was inches from the surface of the wooden shield strapped to his arm. For a fraction of a second, he felt perfectly in place—like everything had sorted itself in his mind, the whirlwind had quieted and he was as real as he was whenever he went to sleep.

Then he pushed back on the bokoblin’s sword, forcing it away from his shield in a maneuver too fast for the monster to properly react. It stumbled, and the rubber band snapped. Time resumed its lightning pace, his thoughts cluttered again, and he landed a final blow on the bokoblin as it struggled to regain its lost footing. The beast cried out one last time before it burst into a cloud of rancid purple vapor, leaving only a horn, a few teeth, and a dirty blade, shining in the bright sunlight.

How the hell had he done that?

The Sheikah Slate vibrated more intensely at his side and Link pulled it out quickly, glancing once toward the other bokoblins. Thankfully, they were still shooting their arrows into the ground, snorting and grunting at each other quietly. They had not noticed his short fight with the other monster.

As he looked at the slate, the screen shifted, displaying a blank menu of some kind. Jagged text began to scroll across the bottom, and Link read it quickly, happy for the distraction from his (once again muddled) thoughts.

 _Useful items can be stored temporarily using the Sheikah Slate,_ it said, and the screen blinked at him, shifting again. _Monster parts identified—would you like to store?_

He glanced briefly at the remaining pieces of the bokoblin he had killed, then back at the slate, which blinked at him and asked its question again. He tapped quickly at the screen and the slate hummed. A second later, and a dull blue light shone out the back of the slate, casting strange lines across the worn stones.

 _Scan items you would like to store,_ the slate chimed, and the lines flickered, like they were searching for something across the surface of the rough ground.

Curious, Link ran the light over the bokoblin horn. Immediately it glowed blue, then fragmented into dozens of lines, dissipating into the air. The Sheikah Slate buzzed, and new text appeared on the screen—a small image and description of the horn, and a small numeral indicating the amount in the slate. It even included potential uses for the strange little item.

Link stared at the slate for a few seconds, surprised, before he brushed it off and scanned the rest of the items in. There was no point questioning things he had no chance of understanding. He threw the wooden club in for good measure, then put the slate back on his belt and grabbed the sword off the ground.

It was a short sword, a little dull and plenty dirty, but it was leagues better than the club. The weight was light enough that he could swing it with ease, and even if it likely wouldn’t do much damage, he felt far better with this in his hand than he had with the club.

As he looked at the sword, another fragmented image flitted through his mind, just for a moment, and so broken he could hardly put together what it had been. But it was nothing like the last of them—this was of green, and sunlight streaming through high trees, and...far better feelings than that terrifying image from before. Still, it was so brief he couldn’t place it, more than a little filling of those empty spaces in his memory—too small to tell from here, but undoubtedly better than before.

He stared at the sword in his hand for a few seconds, trying to understand. Something about...holding this sword had made that image come back. It was something like what had happened when he deflected that bokoblin’s attack—a second of clarity before he was dropped back into this foggy reality. A space in his memory had been filled, but the relief from it was so brief it was almost forgettable.

But this moment had left something...missing. Perhaps it was more similar to when he had realized the girl was not who he called for. The realization that he had someone to find was partly good—he had a goal, a purpose to move, to find his way, rather than wandering aimlessly and drowning in the unknown. It was the same way with the sword, yet more difficult to decipher the exact thing he was missing. He felt...better. But at the same time, it left him feeling hollow—gutted out by the remembrance of things he had lost, whether that be a person he needed or this vague memory.

He might not have remembered what or who those things he lost were...but he felt the loss all the same.

Shaking his head at himself, he pushed on. In a manner well practiced (and thus utterly baffling to him) he strapped the sword and shield to his back and pulled out the slate again. The glowing gold point was straight ahead. Glancing toward the two bokoblins to his right (who were now gabbering at each other, having run out of arrows to shoot at the flowers) he decided to take the time now to face whatever it was under that crop of tan rock. There was no sense in delaying any longer.

With the slate still in his hands, he walked quickly over to the rock, ducking under the lowest portion to reach the secluded area inside. No sunlight could reach here, but a recognizable orange light lit the place from the center outward. In the middle, under a strange protrusion of darker rock, sat a terminal, glowing softly. It looked very similar to the one he had first seen in the cave, with a mechanism on its raised surface, open and ready...like it was waiting for something.

As if in response, the Sheikah Slate hummed, screen illuminating, and Link looked down at it warily.

 _Place the Sheikah Slate in the pedestal,_ it read.

Frowning, he looked at the pedestal again as it pulsed a brighter orange. His thoughts wandered back to the bright flash of blue from the first terminal, and he winced. Would the same happen here?

But there was no other option, no way of connecting to this pedestal without placing the slate in it. This was what he had come here to do (there was nothing else he _could_ do, anyway).

Bracing himself once more, he looked curiously at the pedestal for a few confused seconds before carefully putting the slate into the port. It pulled the slate down, and the terminal spun before lowering, a faint clicking sound echoing against the tightness of the rock formation.

The terminal hummed and then shone a brighter orange (and he was relieved). The surface of the slate lit up once again, chiming at him as text scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

 _Sheikah Tower activated,_ it said. _Please watch for falling rocks._

Falling rocks?

Before he had a chance to wonder what on earth that meant, there was a deep set rumble, and the ground began to shake violently. Resting birds were sent into panicked flight, animals running quickly through the brush, and bokoblins looking around in suspicious confusion. Link lost his footing a second later, landing hard on the smooth ground. He was left to stare upward as the tower began to rise beneath him. The tan formation of rock fell away, revealing an overhang made of the same material as the cave had been, and the sky beyond it.

Wind whipped past for what felt like eternity as the tower rose from deep beneath the ground. He could hear rocks hitting the ground far below, and the many sounds of fleeing animals. As the tower came to a stop, there was a heavy clunking sound, and the top of the tower folded in on itself. Blue rose up the core (which had been orange before) at a rapid pace, and the slate flashed blue in the terminal.

Wary of more movement, Link pushed himself to his feet and found himself hundreds of feet in the air, all of the land sprawling out underneath him. More towers had risen out there, lit an orange so bright he could see their glow even at the farthest points. He found himself staring at them for a few seconds before the Sheikah Slate chimed and his attention was brought back to the present.

 _Scanning area,_ the text read, and the entire _tower_ began to hum. Worried that it would sink (or rise even more, both were terrible) Link grabbed the edge of the terminal. But the slate only hummed again, more text appearing on its surface as the rumble ceased.

 _Distilling local information,_ it said as the object hanging over the terminal began to glow blue. Strange text he could not understand began to run down the sides of it, and the ever present eye symbol glowed at the base. Whatever information it was gathering collected at the bottom in a drop, almost like water. It hung there until it became too heavy and fell, hitting the surface of the Sheikah Slate and immediately dissipating into nothingness.

The screen glowed brighter, pulling up another menu, what Link knew now was the map. The section at the center, where he could see his marker still glowing a cheery yellow, was now filled in, showing a detailed layout of the Great Plateau. Forests, a river, and even a mountain were labelled all about, roads marked and the old temple highlighted. There was a blue icon underneath his own, shaped like the top of the tower, and another odd blue mark where the cave had been.

 _Regional map extracted,_ text at the bottom read, and then the terminal spun once again, lifting the slate up and out. Link took it cautiously, looking down at the map and wondering at the strangeness of the device, and its seemingly endless odd uses.

But eventually, his eyes were drawn again to the view. It seemed the entire world was visible from this point, except the areas hidden behind tall mountains. The castle was unfortunately the predominant object in view, massive columns jutting out of the ground and toward it, flashing in the brightness of the sunlight. He could see the whole field as well, ruins sprinkled along the roads curving through it, horses running wild through the grass. The entire place seemed to have a ghostly feeling to it, fog collecting in the trenches of the rolling hills, sunlight dancing off collapsed buildings and eroded roadways.

As he stood there, looking out over a land he could not remember, he found his eyes drawn once again to the west. Far off in the distance, in between the snowy peaks of the northwest and the tan, crumbling mountain to the south, he found himself staring at a space that was seemingly empty. Some part of him was drawn to that empty space, drawn to what lay beyond the mountain, invisible from here, but there, he knew that much. There was...something there, something that he could almost remember, if he focused enough.

An indefinite shape suddenly appeared in that space, rising above a crop of tan rock poking out. Whatever the object was, it was oblong, and gray in the clouds, coming out from below the mountain line and rising rapidly into the sky as Link watched. He couldn’t make out what it was, and he had no idea why he stared at it with such a strange feeling of...longing, or regret perhaps. But something else about it made him uneasy, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

Not until he was overwhelmed, that is.

_—"find you, when this is over."—_

_Remember, remember, remember—_

**_—“I’ll see you at the end.”—_ **

_Remember,_ **_remember—_ **

**_—“always find a way to injure yourself, somehow.”—_ **

**_Remember—_ ** _have to remember—_

**_—“if something happens...”—_ **

_Remember remember remember!—_

**_Link!_ **

There was an ear piercing screech, like the caw of a bird mixed with a _scream_ he—didn’t want to recognize, didn’t want to have this conviction so suddenly thrust upon him, and at such an inopportune time—but he did, he _did—_

In the distance, the unidentifiable shape took a sudden dive, then rose higher than it had before, and it made that horrible sound again. Without a thought or a care, or anything but the need to _go now,_ Link was running, scrambling to the edge of the tower, not caring for stealth or carefulness or anything but _reaching there as fast as he could—_

“Woah there—”

Suddenly he was jerked backward just before toppling off the edge of the tower, a hand grabbing him by the back of his shirt and pulling him away. He fought against the old man’s grip, eyes still fixed on the shape in the distance. His vision was blurring, but he didn’t care, he hardly noticed, even as he realized he was crying, he didn’t care. He had to _go_ _now—_

“Calm yourself, young one,” the old man said heavily, still dragging him back from the edge with surprising ease. “You will be no help to them if you are dead.”

Link shook his head, pulling against the old man’s grip on him, still trying to reach the edge of the tower, reach _there—_ he didn’t care, he needed to go _now._ He had to, he had to. The screech-like call had not ceased; if anything it seemed to be rising higher, gaining intensity as the beast rose higher and began to circle, like it had found its prey.

And then the call was joined, by three other distinct, terrifying sounds, and the pillars surrounding the castle glowed bright pink, unnatural darkness falling. The old man froze, but he didn’t let go of Link, even as he stopped his struggling too, listening as the sounds grew louder.

In the distance, though they could not see it, _something_ crawled out of the massive volcano, burning bright and yet not damaged at all by the flames as it came down the mountain, sending out sentries and beginning its rampaging patrol.

To the east, another such being rose from the waters of a large lake, trumpeting loudly as a stream of endless water began to shoot into the sky.

And in the southwest, another emerged from the endless desert, lightning crackling at its feet and a powerful sandstorm swirling around it.

Link, however, had eyes only for the first of them in the northwest, as it began to circle a thin formation of rock in the distance. He stared at it, wide eyed, even as the sounds of the beasts’ calls fell back to silence, as the certainty failed him again, and he realized he still knew so little. He could not remember the person there, more than their importance, and...it was more than that, but he had no idea how to put it into words. Still their name evaded him, all the details of _them_ just out of his reach, beyond their voice in that anguished cry and the sense that they were in terrible danger.

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because they were _trapped in there,_ and he had to _go._ Memory or not, he knew he had to go, and go now, before it was too late.

He started toward the edge once more, not a thought in his mind except this raw determination and terrified need to go, to move now, to act, to sort out all the wrongs and get them _out of there—_

“Not so fast, my young friend,” the old man said, grabbing him once again by his arm.

He jerked out of his grip only to be grabbed again, signing quickly. _“Let me go.”_

“Unlikely. We cannot have you tumbling over the edge of this tower. A fall from this height would kill you.”

He shook his head. _“I have to go—”_

“Undoubtedly, yes, I am sure you do,” the old man allowed, half smirking before his expression became grave once more. “But you must understand—this plateau is surrounded by steep cliffs. The only entrance collapsed many years ago and is now no more than a poor excuse for a lake. If you were to try to jump off the plateau...well, no death could be more certain. Or more foolish.”

Link stared at him angrily, before his eyes were drawn once more to the blurry shape in the distance. His chest felt heavy with an emotion he could not immediately describe...something close to anguish seemed the most appropriate, or perhaps despair...it was mixed somewhere with something undefinable, something utterly blocked from him, out of reach in that foggy emptiness where his memories were meant to be.

He had to save them.

“However,” the old man said, watching Link with a curious sort of expression. “There are other means of reaching the rest of Hyrule.”

Link’s eyes snapped to his. _“How?”_

He smiled wryly. “Do you see that structure down there?” he asked, pointing.

Link followed his gesture, eyes landing on a strange little building near the edge of the plateau. It was dark like the cave, short and stubby, and looked entirely out of place among the rest of the plateau’s architecture. The surface glowed orange in strange patterns, and near the top was a massive eye symbol, just like the back of the Sheikah Slate.

“It began glowing at the exact moment those towers rose up from the ground,” the old man said. “Curious, is it not?”

Link shrugged.

“Shrines such as that one are tucked away in numerous places all across this land,” he went on, looking toward the field spread out far beneath them. “On this plateau alone there are four. They bear the same symbol as that slate you have there—it is the symbol of the Sheikah. They were a highly advanced tribe that inhabited these lands long ago. When they disappeared their ancient technology went with them, or so it was said.”

The old man looked to Link again, a strange glint to his eye. “The appearance of these towers and the awakening of the shrines...it is all connected to the Sheikah Slate you carry. It has been quite some time since I have seen that slate...”

Link frowned. _“You’ve seen it before?”_

The old man laughed. “More than you know, my young friend. But that is a discussion for another time. You must hurry, yes?”

Link nodded, looking to the west once more, where the beast continued to circle. The old man, however, had his eyes set on the castle (which Link was decidedly avoiding). The columns surrounding it were still flared a bright pink, and the darkness lay like a thick blanket over the place. It had been an intimidating building before, but now...now it looked truly terrifying.

“Time is short,” the old man said darkly, and Link looked at him again. “I believe if you were to visit the four shrines here on the plateau, you would find their rewards helpful to you. When you have found all four...there is something I must give you.”

He met Link’s eyes for a moment, and he looked very grave then, something weighing on his expression that had not been there before. Something about the shift was...familiar, though Link had no clue why. Perhaps his confusion showed in his eyes, because the old man smirked again.

“There will be time for questions later,” he said. “Be careful as you descend the tower. We are quite a distance from the ground.”

With that, he turned his gaze to the north, staring at the dark castle in the distance, expression guarded. Link watched him for a few seconds before looking to the shrine, and then to the beast circling in the west. Its shape was still so ill defined, and he knew very little of what it was. But he _knew_ it all the same, just as he knew the voice that had called out to him from it.

_—"I’ll find you, when this is over."—_

**_—“be careful, please...”—_ **

The whispers of the past trailed off into silence, leaving Link with a heaviness in his chest and a goal so clear it almost surprised him. He turned away, to the hole in the floor that lead down the tower’s center. As he started the long climb down, his thoughts were more focused than they had ever been since he woke in the cave. More than when the girl had told him what to do. More than when he had found that sword. More than when the memories were the closest to his reach. He knew what he had to do.

He would find them, this person who he knew meant everything to him, who he had been searching for through his slumber and the foggy aftermath. He would find them.

And he would get them out of that thing.


	2. Fragments

_ Said I would find you... _

_ Promised... _

_ Where did you go? _

_ Why weren’t you there? _

_ Have to remember...what happened? _

_ What happened to you? To...to me? _

_ Remember— _

Link shook his head, pulling himself from the daze as he came upon the ruins, the top of the shrine just visible over the wall, shining a brighter orange in the light of the setting sun. Taking the Sheikah Slate in his hand, he pulled closer in on the map, examining what he could of the path that lead to it. Unfortunately the slate was not as detailed when it came to ruins as it was for roadways and mountain ranges. It had been massively helpful in finding the first three shrines, but to be fair, one of them had been right in front of him the entire time. 

He put the slate away with a sigh and looked to the ruins in front of him, settling to sort things out on his own. There didn’t seem to be much here, besides crumbling walls and some oddly shaped, overgrown machinery. His newly acquired runes could do nothing here either—there was no metal in his path, and no sense in creating blocks of ice or freezing objects. It was just a small maze of dilapidated former buildings, with doorways leading every direction possible. 

The shrine poked out from a section near the center, just visible over the top of the wall. It would be easiest to simply scale the wall and drop into that section, especially considering that many of the doorways seemed to be collapsed over with rock. 

This was the last of the shrines on the plateau. After this, he could go, he could leave this place and set off for...wherever it was in the distance that he needed to be. The beasts had remained silent in the hours since their last call, but he could still see the first of them circling in the distance. He could still tell that they were trapped there. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time than he already had. 

The first shrine had been so simple, once he understood how to use the magnesis rune. It was only a matter of finding the metal that he could move and maneuvering it into the proper place to move on. He had even acquired a bow in a hidden chest, as well as some odd screws and cogs that had appeared after he flung a metal box at...something. It was gone before he could see it, but he had heard the explosion of it. He had shrugged off the strangeness of it all, scanning the little bits of machinery into the slate with the rest of the items he had found and moving on. 

The second shrine had been slightly trickier. The stasis rune was simple, but it was strange to control, and needed a long period to recharge before he could use it again. He had a close scrape with a rolling boulder, but besides that had made it out of the shrine just fine. After finding a heavy sledgehammer and knocking the last boulder out of his way, the rest had been simple. And the rune itself had proven incredibly useful several times already, letting him blast rocks out of the way (or into swarms of bokoblins).

The cryonis shrine was the most difficult to reach. Mount Hylia was absolutely frigid, snow falling even as the rest of the plateau remained pleasantly warm. He had stumbled through snow for what felt like eons before rushing into the shrine, trying to warm his freezing hands. Thankfully, the shrine itself was not difficult, once he had a handle on the rune. The ice blocks were strange, completely unlike regular ice—they were easy to climb and hardly cold at all. But they made finding a path through the flooded areas of the plateau much easier, and he was glad for it. 

As he stared at the top of the final shrine, Link found himself wondering what rune would wait inside for him. Each of them had caught him largely off guard in their usefulness, and in the odd way they functioned. He could only hope that whatever rune awaited him inside the shrine would be as helpful as the others had been. 

And he hoped this shrine would go as quickly as the others had as well, for the sake of the person waiting for him in the west. 

They had remained silent since their frantic shout to him when the beasts first rose, just as the girl had stopped speaking to him. Everything had fallen back into a much more eerie silence. There was no way to know for sure why they were quiet, but...he was trying to believe it to be a good sign, rather than bad. If they were truly in trouble...in pain...then they would certainly call to him again, so that he could reach them. The silence now, while slightly alarming, did not mean everything was for nought. Not yet. He had time, he had to believe he had time. 

He would not fail again. 

Frowning at the implication of this sudden foreign thought, Link forced his attention back to the task at hand. He made certain that the Sheikah Slate was secure on his belt, sword, shield, and bow strapped tightly to his back. With nothing else to check (and a great portion of impatience and haste) he stepped into the maze of ruins, eyes set on the shrine poking out of the center. 

He made it through the first courtyard fine, scaled the slimy wall and dropped into the second. His sword clanged on his back, bumping the metal edge of the traveler’s bow he carried. Both weapons felt wrong (he hardly touched the bow, and still he knew it wasn’t right), as did the shield attached to them. Everything about his existence at the moment felt wrong. But he had resigned himself hours ago to accept it. If not for the sake of his own sanity, than for the sake of not wasting the time of someone trapped miles away in the belly of that beast. His comfort was the least of his concerns (and the feeling of that was not foreign...not at all).

The second courtyard was more destroyed than the first, sections of the walls collapsed, others blackened with burn marks. Recent burn marks...what could have burned the stones of this structure? There was nothing here but—

Directly in front of him sat one of the moss covered relics of machinery, which until now he had not paid much attention to. They were so covered over in grass and decay that he could not make out the details of the intricate carvings adorning their surface. Perhaps in another life, he would have appreciated the beauty of such things, lit up with life and glowing with an energy so foreign and familiar. Perhaps he would have recognized the similarities between this urn-like object and the shrine in the next courtyard, or the slate attached to his belt. 

As he had been thinking, looking around the corridor with curiosity, the machine sitting motionless in front of him sprang to sudden life. 

There was a grating sort of clunking sound, like dirt being dislodged from long rusted gears, as the machine struggled to move after so long sitting immobile. Still, it managed the feat somehow, long dormant lights flickering weakly as its mechanisms began to turn at the registered movement nearby. Its middle and top sections turned independently of each other, booting up at different speeds, until finally they began to turn in sequence, spinning to face forward. 

What had been dead was suddenly alive. What had glowed softly flashed bright pink. What had been silent suddenly sprang into being with an all too familiar mechanical whirring. A single eye at the center of the machine’s upper section illuminated a sickly shade of bright blue, and it froze. It seemed to consider the person in front of it for a moment before zeroing in, and its targeting system engaged. 

Link had frozen out of instinct at the movement, but he had remained so for an entirely different reason, one which he could not define. Not when it felt as if every fiber of his being was on fire, raw panic causing him to lose feeling in every limb and yet somehow recall phantom pain so intense that he could not move, even as the thing caught full sight of him. His eyes were stuck on the terrible blue of its eye, the brightness with which it glowed, and the flashing of fragmented and broken images from a past he did not know, pain he did not remember, and yet did. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t do a single thing but stare wide eyed at this terrible machine as it targeted him. 

_ —cold, and everything  _ **_burned,_ ** _ and there was blood all over him—up, get up get up get up—pushing himself to his feet by the sword—nearly falling again, everything blurring and tipping over—whirring getting closer— _

Stop stop stop  _ stop— _

**_Link!_ **

_ —a hand on his shoulder, barely there at all for fear of tipping him over—small, gentle voice he knew too well, but not like this—not so afraid, not so frantic—“Link, save yourself, go! Don’t worry about me—run!”— _

_ —different voice, different hands on his shoulders, same message _ **_—“if something happens, you have to go...”—_ ** _ all of it mixing up until he couldn’t quite make out exactly what was happening— _

**_Link!_ **

_ —“I’ll be fine,” she said in the rain, her voice rising in pitch, and she jostled him slightly—he had fallen again, hand loose on the sword, other wrapped around his stomach, vaguely trying to stop the bleeding, but it was failing entirely—“Run!”— _

_ —can’t, I can’t, have to—everything hurt, nothing made sense anymore, she was still talking but they were coming—have to—have to—get up, get up—staring up at the thing as it came closer, its eye landing on him, and targeting—he’d been hit so many times already, this would kill him—flash of bright blue— _

**_Move, Link!_ **

The beeping of the machine’s targeting had increased in speed, and its eye flashed an impossibly brighter blue as it prepared to fire. Only then could he get his legs to move, to flee from this terrifying thing, even as the eye tracked his frantic movement. He dove behind a column as it fired, the blast hitting the other side and sending fire wrapping around it. The pillar shook, but did not fall. 

With its target gone, the machine paused, gears churning with effort as it scanned the entirety of the courtyard twice. It fired again at the last place it had seen movement, and considering its work done, gritted back to its original position. The whirring sound slowed, then stopped with a faint click, and the garish pink light flickered out. Silence fell. 

Link didn’t notice. He didn’t notice anything, really. All he seemed able to do at the moment was collapse against the wall of the pillar, legs drawn up to his chest as he trembled. The mechanical whirring was still so loud, it wouldn’t stop, none of it would  _ stop _ and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He clapped his hands over his ears, trying to block it out, trying to make the sound stop, but it was in his head and it  _ wouldn’t go away. _

_ —running through muddy fields, dragging her along with him, dodging beams as best he could—shouts and cries and death all happening around them— _

_ —“Link!”— _

_ —he turned at her shout and sure enough there was another following them—its beam was already ready to fire, there was nothing he could— _

_ —desperate, he turned quickly, throwing himself between her and the Guardian just before— _

_ —“No!”— _

_ —landed hard on his back, and she was nowhere in sight—no, there she was, staring down at him all—worried—he forced himself to his feet and grabbed her hand, ignoring the burning on his chest, the blood running down his shirt and all over his hands— _

Memories were playing in broken pieces, in jagged fragments that were too much, too much for him. He shut his eyes, burying his face in his knees and trying to breathe, trying to convince himself it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t be, he—

_ —different sets of eyes, different place, same whirring—always the same—carrying him off somewhere, and he was slipping, he was  _ **_dying—_ **

_ —“Stay with us, Link—” a high voice said, and he tried, he tried, but— _

_ —another beam of light over them and he flinched away from it weakly—more voices, more—it wouldn’t  _ **_stop—_ **

He wasn’t sure how much time passed like that. It felt like ages, years that he sat there, curled up against a cold stone pillar, hands clamped over his ears and eyes shut so tight it started to hurt. But the sounds wouldn’t stop, and the shaking wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t move. It felt like he was falling, like he was coming apart at the seams, with nothing to grab onto to stop it, nothing but this crushing, paralyzing fear of that  _ thing— _

_ Link. _

He flinched at the girl’s soft voice, half his mind still stuck in the broken memory of a day he never wanted to remember in its entirety. She had been there. She was there when—when—no no, he couldn’t, he couldn’t think about that anymore—he didn’t want to. He just wanted this to stop—

_ Link,  _ she called sadly, her voice somehow gentler than it had been before. She sounded so...heartbroken.  _ The Guardian has deactivated. You have to keep moving.  _

A part of him knew she wouldn’t lie. How he knew he couldn’t say, but he was sure she would not lie to him. Still, a far louder portion of his thoughts insisted she had to be wrong. He wasn’t safe here. That thing was going to—

_ Please, Link. You have to trust me. I cannot help you any more than this. You  _ **_must_ ** _ move.  _

Slowly, slowly he opened his eyes, staring at his found shoes, the freshly charred grass just inches away from the soles. His hands, when he managed to pry them from his ears, went immediately to his dirty shirt, bunching up in the worn fabric. Once again, whatever condition he expected to find it in was not the case, and he slumped back against the wall in relief. He didn’t dare close his eyes again, for fear of returning to those terrible memories, and so he stared blankly at his shoes, trying to sort his panicked thoughts back into order. 

When the numbness had faded, and he felt certain that the mechanical whirring was long gone, and he could look elsewhere without his vision falling into darkness, Link pushed himself carefully to his feet. He suddenly felt exhausted, more than he had even when he had first awoken in the cave. His hands shook, his legs felt like pudding, and he couldn’t seem to remember why he had come in this place at all. Holding himself up by the pillar’s edge, he tried to regain his bearings. After another minute or so his eyes landed on the soft orange light leaking over the next wall in the darkness. 

The shrine. Right. He had come for the shrine. He just had to get to the shrine. Then he would be safe. 

He didn’t dare look to see if the Guardian was really deactivated as the girl had said, only kept his eyes as focused as he could on the soft glow of the shrine just ten or so feet from him. His ears were ringing, but at least the terrible whirring had stopped. He still couldn’t feel his legs, but at least he was moving, climbing the short, crumbling wall and landing safely on his feet. The memory still lurked in the back of his mind, but at least he could breathe again. 

With shaking hands, he took the Sheikah Slate carefully from his belt, turning his face away and holding it to the pedestal at the shrine’s door. When he heard the chime of the door unlocking, and the mechanisms starting to pull open, he tucked the slate back into his belt and stumbled his way into the alcove. The platform began to sink immediately, and he shut his eyes again, thankful for the weakness of the blue light leading down into the depths of the shrine. 

He had heard them again. When the Guardian had targeted him, just before it had fired. He heard their voice again, yelling for him to move. It had snapped him out of his fear long enough for him to dive into safety—the shock of hearing their voice again, and so terrified, had been enough for just a moment. Maybe longer if he hadn’t slipped off into panic so quickly. But he had heard them all the same, just as clearly as he had when the beasts had called out. 

He had to get off this plateau. Had to get them back. 

The platform came to a stop and he pulled his eyes open, glad that his hands had finally stopped trembling. His legs still felt like mush, though. Shaking his head, he stepped off the platform as a strange voice reverberated through the building. 

_ To you who sets foot in this shrine, I am Ja Baij,  _ an ancient voice said, low and echoing through the emptiness of the room.  _ In the name of Goddess Hylia, I offer this trial. Find your way through the rune’s maze, and receive your reward at its end.  _

Link looked to the pedestal in the corner of the dim room, ready and waiting for him. He hurried over to it, trying to dispel the last of his panic and focus on the shrine’s task. It was a welcome distraction from all the conflicting thoughts running through his mind—guilt and terror and desperation were all getting jumbled up in the spaces left behind by lost memories. The encounter with the Guardian had only aggravated it all, given him a clear sense of what he was afraid of in his past (and present) but left questions unanswered, as he was discovering his memories tended to do. 

He put the Sheikah Slate in the pedestal and tried to turn his thoughts elsewhere as it distilled another rune for him. The effort mostly failed; if anything, attempting to think of other things only made his mind stick more harshly on the fragmented memory the Guardian had triggered. 

That girl had been there, he had been...protecting her? He was standing in front of her...she was telling him to run...he had shook his head and tried to stand once more...and then—

The slate rose from the pedestal just as his breathing had picked up pace again, and he lunged for the distraction immediately. He couldn’t think about this now, not when—not when he had things to do. In truth, he would rather forget the memory entirely...he wished he had never walked into that courtyard, that the Guardian had never awoken and seen him. Then he wouldn’t have all these confusing thoughts and this horrible panic that wouldn’t leave him, even as he had a task so clearly laid out before him. 

But he wouldn’t have heard them again. Wouldn’t know they were still out there somewhere...and...he wanted to hear them. He wanted to remember  _ them.  _ It was a twisted set of thoughts, but it was the only thing that kept him going. 

Holding back a sigh and trying to ignore the weariness seeping into him, he looked down at the slate in his hands, reading its description of the new rune. Two small blue icons had appeared next to the magnesis rune, one round and one square.  _ Remote bombs _ according to the slate. Frowning, he clicked the round icon with shaking fingers, and sure enough, the slate generated a small, round, (and terribly) blue bomb. 

The same blue as the Guardian’s eye, and the beam he now knew came from it. The same blue as all the shrines when he completed them, the tower when he activated it. The same blue that haunted his memories, dragged out what he knew to be the worst of them, left him shaken and muddled and dazed as he tried to bring himself back from the edge. 

He hated it. He hated that shade of blue more than anything he could remember. 

The wall across from him, down the small slope, had mostly collapsed. Large cracks broke it apart into chunks, and the floor was littered with pebbles and pieces of wall. One of the bombs would probably destroy the last pieces of it. Nodding to himself, he picked up the bomb the slate had generated and rolled it down the slope. When it reached the wall, he tapped the slate quickly, keeping his eyes fixed on the recharging symbol as the bomb exploded with a strange chime and a flash of that horrible blue light. The wall crumbled to dust, revealing another hallway that branched off into two directions. 

He went through the rest of the shrine in a daze, hardly knowing what he was doing until he found himself in front of the monk, waiting for his blessing. At the flash of the blue encasement shattering, he flinched, but he was so dazed by his thoughts he hardly had the chance to think on it. The words of the monk washed over him, and he barely noticed when he received the spirit orb. He returned to the rising platform in a fog, shutting his eyes as it began to go back to the surface. 

Darkness had fallen while he stumbled his way through the shrine, weak moonlight streaking through the few clouds and hitting off the shrine’s surface. It was a beautiful night. The stars were out, and the world had gone back to a peaceful silence. Hardly a noise rang through the ruins, more than the gentle swaying of grass and the occasional cricket’s chirping call. Fireflies cast their green glow over the low trees, and bokoblins lay unconscious around their campfires. The Great Plateau seemed to slumber, as did Hyrule below it.

Link didn’t look at any of it. He couldn’t. Panic was creeping up on him again, and he could do nothing to stop it. Hands shaking violently, he pulled the slate from his belt once more and went to the map’s screen. Zooming in further on its surface, he tried to decide where to go from here. He certainly did not want to spend the night in this courtyard, with that... _ thing  _ so close by. No, no he needed to leave, find somewhere else, somewhere...safer. Somewhere that wouldn’t make him panic at just the  _ thought  _ of walking past that thing again. 

Couldn’t stay here, had to go—go  _ now.  _ Before he collapsed, and he could feel it coming on. He had to go or—or it was going to overwhelm him again. He couldn’t let that happen. 

The tower’s icon flashed in the corner of his vision, and he froze, finger hovering over the travel marker. His thoughts wandered, somewhere deep into the silence of his mind, into the past he had such fuzzy recollections of. For a moment, he caught a glimmer of something, a shard of a memory. 

A place—high in the clouds, with the sound of wind blowing through cleverly carved buildings, the gentle rustling of chimes, and another, more difficult to define sound...a melody that seeped through the place and into him, lulling him off into a sleep far gentler than any he had experienced elsewhere. A voice. That was a voice...someone was...He could see mountains from here, snow capped peaks with blizzards always swirling around them, and updrafts visible in the distance, sending the snow higher and higher. And despite the draft he could feel blowing through his hair, pulling at his clothes, he felt warmer than he ever had, so warm and—

He came back to reality with a jerk, still staring at the blinking icon of the tower. There were...tears on his face, and he suddenly felt...cold. Like he was missing something.

Missing someone. 

He clicked the icon of the tower, and in a flash he was there, stumbling to the nearest pillar and holding onto it, trying to keep himself on his feet. Only then did he notice how beautiful the night was, but it only served to make his heart feel heavier, longing for a past that seemed so far out of his grasp. The stone was cold under his hands, and somehow that felt right, but he stopped asking himself why when he knew he wouldn’t get any sort of coherent answer. 

The wind blew hard against his back, and he turned his eyes to the west once more, to the blurry outline of the beast circling its rock. Vague feelings were lurking in his mind, half memories of things he couldn’t put into words or hope to hold onto long enough to understand. But it left him with a longing for _...them... _ and an exhaustion he was struggling to combat. 

_ “I’ll come for you,”  _ he signed to the wind, gestures loose and heavy, weighed down by the storm of thoughts quickly dragging him down to sleep.  _ “I promise.” _

There was no response, but he had not expected one. He knew they were there...he could tell. And now he was here, far off from the Guardian, far up in the clouds, where he felt safer, for reasons he wasn’t going to question. He knew the answer somewhere in his mind, he just would not attempt to put it into words until he could remember them fully. Until he could see their face clearly in his mind, remember their name as he should. Then he would put it to words. Then he would allow himself to name this strange, feathery feeling in his chest. 

With nothing else to do (and more thoughts than he could properly sort out) he let himself sink to the ground, sitting cross legged on the cool stone and staring at the starlit sky. For quite some time he sat like that, staring up, lost in his meandering thoughts. His hands were still shaking, but it seemed to be slowing. At some point, he drifted off into sleep, leaned against the wall of the tower with his face turned westward. 

He couldn’t recall if he dreamt while he slept in the cave. Perhaps he had. But the most keen sense he had of his time spent there was of calling for someone, for that person who he had lost, to time or tragedy he did not know. It had been like he was walking through a dense fog, trying to find them. Other times it felt like he was sinking, with no hope of finding the surface again. Their voice haunted him, for a time, but it was all phantom. He knew then that he was crafting their tone from nothing—he wanted to hear them, and so he remembered their voice, in vague terms. But there was a separation from them as he had slept. He could not reach them. They could not hear him. 

Now...now it was quite different. Sleep, for one, no longer felt like being dragged into a deep quagmire, unable to fight his way back to the air. It felt as he assumed it ought to—like a slow unraveling of the day, a quiet drift off into peaceful dreams. The sense of floating was still there, but it was no longer a freefall, like when he was in the cave. Now, it felt like there was someone there with him, perhaps someone to catch him would be the proper metaphor.

And then, of course, there was their voice. 

**_“Strange,”_ ** _ they said, and it was barely more than a whisper in his mind, but he heard them as clearly as he ever had.  _ **_“You’ve lost all your memories...and yet you found the highest ground you could, just to sleep. I’m almost flattered...”_ **

_ They trailed off, their tone almost playful. Some of that teasing remained when he heard them next.  _

**_“I suppose I’m to blame for that. You always did enjoy sleeping in the village. Well...you loved everything about the village. And you could sleep almost anywhere...”_ ** _ he could almost hear them laugh. In a distant sense he thought he might understand the joke. He hardly cared anyway. He just wanted to hear them talk.  _ **_“But you always shone brightest there, when you had the time to come. Even in your sleep, you seemed much more peaceful when we were there. There was only one other place that came close, and...now that I think of it, they were quite similar, really.”_ **

**_“I think you just enjoy the heights. Or perhaps it’s my company. I’d like to think it’s the second, at least partially. I’ll have to ask you...”_ **

_ They fell silent again, and there was a weight to the pause this time, a density in the connection that hadn’t been there before. Link thought he might have known why...but he couldn’t be certain.  _

**_“I’m sure you’ll rediscover it all, eventually...”_ ** _ they said quietly.  _ **_“You’ve never been one to let go of something, and I can see that hasn’t changed. Just as stubborn as you’ve always been...I hope that stubbornness will not bring you to harm...I don’t think I could take it if your fate went the same as it did the last time. Please be careful...not that you were not, but...you make it very easy to worry for your safety.”_ **

_ A memory pulled at him, old, distant, and vague like most of them were now...but it was gone before he could grasp it. All he was left with was the sense that they had once said something quite similar. If they were face to face, he might have looked sheepish.  _

**_“You look the same, you know. Not that you ever cared for that sort of thing...but you look just as you did all those years ago...It’s almost as if it were yesterday, that everything happened...sometimes it feels like it was yesterday...It gets difficult to tell, how long it’s been since everything...Try not to think on it. It won’t help...”_ **

**_“There’s very little I can do here. I don’t even know if you can hear me,”_ ** _ their tone shifted again, almost bitter if it weren’t so heartbroken.  _ **_“I could be talking to the wind, for all I know. Although...perhaps that’s it, isn’t it? Talking to the wind...It always worked before. And I’ve seen you doing it, just a little while ago...perhaps you remember more than you think.”_ **

_ They paused, and when they spoke again, it was softer, more sad.  _ **_“Sometimes I can see you. I don’t know how...But I saw you in that courtyard...I wish I could have...done something more,”_ ** _ they said, frustration thickening their tone.  _ **_“I have never been very good at tolerating you in pain, particularly when there isn’t a thing I can do about it. Rather unfortunate for your...line of work, for me to be so intolerable of your pain. But this is different, now. This pain isn’t the same as it was all those years ago.”_ **

_ They sighed.  _ **_“I wish I could help you...I wish I could tell you that you’re safe, and none of the things in your past can possibly hurt you from here...I wish I could hold you, and make sure you knew that this moment, this now was real, and we were safe. But I won’t lie to you and tell you that you are safe from it all. Not yet. But you will be...very soon, I hope.”_ **

**_“I can do very little from here. It comes and goes, this feeling of freedom, the ability to hear you when you call. I don’t know how to explain it. Like I said, I hardly know if you can hear me rambling now, as it is.”_ **

_ Another pause, and quieter when they spoke, barely more than a whisper.  _ **_“I hope you can hear me, as I can hear you...I hope you know I’ve answered. Or at least...I’ve tried to._ **

**_“I know that you will come. I’ve known since I realized what it meant, when she put you in that cave. We may have lost before, but there’s no way we can lose now. You won’t allow it. I know you won’t. This is our time. This time...it will work,”_ ** _ they said the last with such confidence it was almost staggering, a boisterous demand that nothing would go wrong this time around.  _

_ But they hesitated before continuing, as if sensing something was amiss in his thoughts, in the confusion clouding him.  _ **_“Oh, Link...You never failed us in the first place...please don’t think that you did. None of this has been your fault. It was us, who failed you...and_ ** **_she_ ** **_failed you...perhaps soon you will recall some of my thoughts on that matter. I don’t want to think on it now. Not when you are so exhausted. You deserve better than my old grudges._ **

**_“I miss you terribly. All you’ve done, all you did in the past...you deserve sleep...sleep that isn’t...disturbed by torment. I wish I could give it to you. It seems that this is all I can do, though...for now. Fill the void with chatter. I’ve always been the one to talk, but somehow you say a great deal more.”_ **

_ They gave another weary sigh, and they suddenly sounded very tired. But they pressed on.  _ **_“I hope this helps you, in some way. When this is over...when this is over perhaps I can do more._ **

**_“You deserve a lot more than you’ve been handed, you know. You deserved better then, and you undoubtedly deserve better now. None of this has ever been quite fair to you, not that you’ve ever complained. It just isn’t in your nature, is it?”_ ** _ they paused, and he could hear the smile, and the sadness in their voice.  _

**_“You’re too kind hearted,”_ ** _ they whispered, sounding simultaneously proud, anguished, and annoyed.  _

**_“It’s your biggest strength. And the most infuriating of them all. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I’m glad you haven’t changed, in that way...I don’t know why I thought you could. You’ve always been too kind for your own good,”_ ** _ they went quiet, voice thick as they spoke again.  _ **_“This fate is too dark for a person like you. You deserve far better than this...this lost sense that seems to radiate off of you. You deserve better than to live with that fear. It won’t destroy you. You’re too strong. But I can see how it is hurting you..._ **

**_“Your memories will come back. The good ones too. They far outweigh the bad...at least in my mind. There are so many places...so many memories that go beyond the terrible things you’ve seen so far. I know you won’t give up...but don’t let the worst of your days consume you.”_ **

_ There was a pause, one laden with sentimentality he couldn’t place.  _ **_“We had better days than that,”_ ** _ they said firmly.  _ **_“You only have to find them. They’re out there waiting for you, just where we left them, as well as...”_ ** _ they went quiet, and he had the sense they were holding off on something. Something he needed to find...something important.  _

**_“There are plenty of pieces of our past scattered about,”_ ** _ they finished, sounding terribly saddened.  _ **_“I know you’ll find them. I hope they are as helpful to you now as they were then. And...I hope that they bring you back what you are seeking. At least some of the comfort...some sense of what we had._ **

**_“Even if you don’t...even if you can’t bear the thought of remembering it all...I’ll be here,”_ ** _ they whispered, voice almost timid, unsure.  _ **_“I may be stubborn, and a fool, and many other words I’m sure you’ll call me when we see each other again...but I can’t afford to lose you again. I won’t. I refuse. And unless I am...gravely mistaken, I believe you share the sentiment.”_ **

_ There came another pause, longer than the rest, and for a moment he thought they were gone. He fumbled out for them desperately, in whatever way he had here in this strange dream world. They couldn’t go yet, he  _ **_needed_ ** _ them— _

_ And then they were there again, hushing him as if he had been shouting this entire time, and he had the sense he might have been, in their absence. But they were back, and he could hear them again...they were here, it was...it was okay... _

**_“Rest now,”_ ** _ they said quietly, voice close and inexplicably far.  _ **_“I’m here, even if...even if I can’t do anything but this. I won’t leave you until I have to. I hear you, Link...”_ **

_ And then very quietly, as he felt himself beginning to wake, he heard them as they disappeared. A whisper in the wind, half covered over and yet blaring, seared into his memory.  _

**_“I hope you can hear me...”_ **

He wasn’t sure how long he slept like that, leaned against the tower wall in a slump, but when he managed to pull his eyes open, the sun was rising. It seemed warmer than before, almost like that little snippet of memory he had found when he came here...he smiled a little at that, looking around. 

Hyrule looked much better in the morning light than it had the night before. The sky was clear, and he could see much farther than the day before. He could see the ruins just below the plateau, the river snaking its way through forests and around formations of rock, horses snuffling about in the grass. He could even see what looked like other people, walking quickly down the roads to unknown destinations. 

Out of instinct, however, he found his eyes drawn to the west again, where the beast continued to circle. It was too far away to see clearly, even in this brighter day, but he could make out the shape of it a little more now. In a sudden burst of inspiration, he hastily pulled out the Sheikah Slate and pulled up its scope. The slate hummed, but complied, and he zoomed in on the beast in the far west. 

The wings hung dark and heavy in the sky, glowing faintly pink in strips of light down the sides. He could see the barrier flickering around it, flashing occasionally in the light. The beak was facing his way at this point, so he could not see the face of the beast. Blurry shapes were poking out from the surface, and he had the sense that he knew what they were, but he didn’t give it much thought then. 

Had he imagined everything he heard, just then? Had it all been a dream? Another made up version of their voice that he crafted himself, just to keep sane? No, no it couldn’t be that. It had to be real. They...they had to still be out there. 

He lowered the Sheikah Slate back into his lap, watching the beast turn, circling closer to the rock with its barrier flashing. It was so far away, as were all his memories he knew were tied to it...they were there, and yet not. They had said he would regain his memories with time, and if he saw the places they had been, the things they had done...he hoped they were right. He wanted to remember them. He wanted everything he had lost to come back to him somehow...

_ “I can hear you,”  _ he signed, eyes still fixed on the wings of the beast. His hands fell back to his lap.  _ “I’m sorry...” _

“The view is quite spectacular, isn’t it?”

Link turned quickly, watching as the old man walked carefully over to him from the hole in the floor that lead up. He turned back to the view, nodding a little, holding tighter to the slate. 

The old man stood next to him, leaning on his lantern and staring out at the castle, as he had the day before. They were both quiet for a few seconds as the sun rose, and Hyrule slowly came back to life. Or so it seemed, at least. 

“I see you have managed to find all the shrines on the plateau,” the old man said after a moment. “That is fantastic news...I suppose it is time I explain myself to you, and give you what I have withheld.”

Link frowned, glancing up at him again. But the old man had turned away, back toward the plateau. He walked carefully over to the edge, his lantern clanging a little on the stone. Pushing himself slowly to his feet, Link joined him, looking at the Temple of Time just as the sun began to hit the plateau. 

“Do you see the tower at the top of the Temple?” the old man asked, pointing to the spire. “There is a small room there, what used to hold a bell, but has long sat empty. It has the perfect view of the Dueling Peaks, and many of the lands to the east of the plateau. Far superior to this, I believe...although I am often wrong about such things.”

_ “Why are you telling me this?”  _ Link signed, staring quizzically at the old man. 

He smirked. “You’ll see soon, young one,” he said, looking again to the Temple. “Do you understand where I have told you? The room at the top of the Temple of Time...There I will be waiting...”

Link stared, confused, but he had no time to ask what he meant before he was stumbling backward, shocked. The old man’s sentence trailed away as he disappeared, his entire form fading out into green flame, illuminating the tower in strange ways for a few seconds before those too were gone. Link was left alone on the tower, hugging the pillar and staring at the spot where the old man had just been, eyes wide. 

What had just happened? Where did he go? Was this how he had been sneaking up on him the entire time—how he had so suddenly appeared at the top of the tower when Link had tried to run off it, and just now when he had come silently to talk about the view—what was going on? 

His eyes drifted to the Temple, and the room perched on its roof. The windows had been empty before, reflecting some of the sunlight back onto the broken stones of the Temple, but now they are aflame with a light of an altogether different shade. There is a bright green glow leaking from the fractured panes, spilling out the sides where no glass remains. A figure looms in the flames, peering out to the east, at twin summits where the sunrise shines through. It is a familiar silhouette.

The old man. 

Frowning, and still very confused, Link turned away, dropping down the hole in the floor onto the platform beneath it. He kept his eyes focused on the platforms that spiraled down the tower, not wanting to lose his footing and fall, but his thoughts were on the old man, and his strangeness. 

Two days he had spent on this plateau, being tailed by the strange man with almost no explanation. He had appeared as if from thin air—in the forest when Link was trying to find something to eat, on Mount Hylia when Link was stumbling through the snow to a shrine, at the base of the mountain chopping trees as he wandered past. At the time, he hadn’t thought anything of the encounters, too focused on finding the shrines and getting off the plateau. But now, now he found them very odd. 

How had the old man been finding him, whenever he wanted to? How did he always seem to know where Link was? Now that he thought about it, why was he on this plateau in the first place? He had told Link when he came from the cave that the Great Plateau was abandoned after the kingdom fell...but he  _ lived  _ here...and he could travel instantaneously—without the help of the Sheikah Slate, mind you. 

He couldn’t sort it out. No matter how he tried to explain it all in his mind as he walked, none of the pieces seemed to fit. He clambered up the hill to where the Temple sat, careful to avoid the decayed corpses of Guardians (he didn’t know if any of them were active, but just the sight of their urn-like bodies was enough to make his heart pound now) as he came closer to it. Up close, he realized that the Temple was in far worse shape than he had initially thought. 

The building must have been beautiful once. It was made of a pale gray stone, with high stained glass windows and a cavernous main room, a large statue at its front center. The remains of wooden pews were decaying in clean rows, some of them burned, others crushed under the weight of dead Guardians. Most of the stained glass was shattered, crumbled on the ground in a fine dust with large pieces of it scattered about. Vines grew over the stones of the facade, creeping in through the broken windows and missing walls, and new grass had shot up from the floors. Even the statue at the front was covered in moss, but the peaceful face of the woman didn’t seem to mind it at all. 

Link stared calmly at the statue for a few seconds, at the light playing across her round face. She was large enough to cast shadows on the smaller duplicates, and her stone eyes seemed to follow him as he walked closer, steps silent on the overgrown ground. Something about her face seemed...familiar...

_ —kind faced statue seemed to smile down at him, even as she was near tears in front of it, practically begging at this point— _

_ —“I come seeking help...” she whispered, almost frantic, and he could hear the desperation in her voice— _

_ —he should not be listening, he frowned and looked to the sky, trying to hear nothing but the water, crashing down from above, the wind whistling through the grass— _

_ —wanted to leave, go back home, not be here in the chill, with this girl who despised him—wanted to see— _

_ —“curse you,” she spat, throwing her hands down into the water and turning away from the statue— _

_ —“she doesn’t mean it,” he had signed immediately, looking at the statue again as she mumbled on— _

Blinking hard, Link stepped away, frowning at the fragmented memory. The girl...she had been praying to a statue like this. It was foggy, but he knew that was what she had been doing. And whatever she had been asking of it, it did not seem to hear her...

_ Hero... _

He jumped, backing away another step and scrambling for something to—to—

_ Calm yourself, Hero... _ the voice said, and he froze, looking up at the statue again.  _ I am not going to hurt you... _

He stared at the round face, the stone eyes that still seemed to follow him as he stepped a little closer, hands slowly lowering from where they had begun to reach for his weapons. Sunlight started streaming through the windows, shining on the statue in a way that seemed to give it a strange glow. Somehow it seemed right, for this smiling statue to be surrounded by glowing light, to look down at him with a smile that was somehow alive, even as it was made of stone. 

_ You have done well to find the shrines on this plateau... _ she went on softly, pausing for a moment as if in thought.  _ Come closer, my Hero... _

He frowned, glancing toward the spire, where he knew the old man was waiting. But this...this seemed important. This was different from when the girl spoke to him, or when he heard their voice in his sleep...this voice was different in every sense of the word. Something...there was something warm about it, but heavy too, distant and foreign.

_ The Shrine of Resurrection may have healed your wounds... _ she said sadly as he came to stand a few feet from the statue.  _ But it did not return your strength to you. Only great trials can give that back to you, Hero...there are many that await you in Greater Hyrule...seek them out and bring their rewards before any of my statues, and I will grant you the power you require... _

The Sheikah Slate hummed at his side, but he only stared at the statue, confused. It seemed to smile a little more at him as the light shifted, but it was a sad smile. Link wasn’t sure at all what to think, let alone to say, and so he was silent, hands loose at his sides, watching the statue in the rising sunlight.

_ You have visited the four on this plateau...for that, I can aid you in your journey, but only just. Seek out more of the shrines when you descend this plateau, and I shall be of much more help to you... _

Link nodded, wondering at how many of these shrines she spoke of there were in the rest of Hyrule. He would find them, if it would help him find  _ them. _

_ Soon, Hero... _ the woman’s voice said, almost a laugh to it before it fell back to its saddened tone.  _ You will have them back to you soon...but to do so you must regain your strength, and your proper sword...only then can you truly save them. To go any sooner would be to damn them to a terrible fate. You know this to be true... _

He didn’t (he did, somehow) but he only nodded again, trusting the darkening of the woman’s tone when she spoke of such things. The light shone a little brighter into the Temple, coming in through the cracked walls and shattered windows with more force as the clouds moved on. The statue seemed to smile once more. 

_ Your strength has been increased, Hero... _ she said, voice fading off.  _ Go, and bring peace to Hyrule... _

Then the light moved on from the statue, and he was alone again in the Temple, staring at cold stone. Her words were still fluttering about in his mind, trying to find some place where they all made sense. 

_Your_ _proper_ _sword,_ she had said...that certainly made sense. It would explain the sense of _wrongness_ this current blade gave him. He was becoming used to it, he supposed, but it still felt wrong. And she had said so many other strange things...regaining his strength and facing trials...and she only referred to him as _Hero._ It didn’t sound...wrong, but...unexpected, perhaps. 

“I see you have made use of the goddess’ grace,” a voice called from above. 

Link turned quickly, eyes floating up to the spire of the Temple, where the bright green light still shone brightly. The old man stood at the edge of the small room, leaning on his lantern and flickering strangely. Little green flames were ebbing and glowing around him, but he hardly seemed to notice. He only stared down at Link with a strange smirk, with a kind of sadness lurking in his eyes. 

“There is a ladder on the farthest wall. Join me,” he called, waving Link up before turning away. 

Sense of urgency returning, Link did as he was told, quickly finding the ladder and scrambling his way onto the crumbling roof of the Temple of Time. Large sections of it had collapsed, and most of it was waterlogged, but it held as he balanced across it. He slipped only once, and quickly regained his footing before pulling himself up into the small room where the old man stood, staring out the hole in the wall toward the mountains. 

“See?” the old man said as Link came to stand next to him. “Far superior view of these mountains, I think.”

Link didn’t give any reply, only looked up at the old man quizzically. After a few seconds, the old man turned away from the view, meeting his eyes for a moment. 

“I have a great deal to tell you in a short amount of time,” he said flatly, sounding displeased. “I’m afraid I’ve been keeping much from you in your time here. I thought it best to see if you could remember any of the details of your life, before trying to explain it all to you. I assumed a temporary form, and tried to aid you as best I could.”

_ “Temporary form?”  _ Link signed as the old man watched him before walking over to the other window.  _ “What do you mean?” _

The old man’s frown deepened. “As much as I would like to tell you this is the only life I’ve led, Link, it is not. One hundred years ago...when Hyrule fell to ruin...I was its King. I have remained here in spirit form since the fall of the castle, where I lost my life...”

Link was frozen, trying to understand the implications of what the man had just said. He had been told the kingdom fell, but he had no idea what that truly meant, and he did not know that the old man was  _ dead.  _

His stunned silence was hardly noticed, however, as the King continued to stare at the distant castle, brooding. 

“The darkness which surrounds Hyrule Castle, that which powers the Divine Beasts, contains our champions, and makes dastardly use of the Guardians...all of that is Calamity Ganon, an entity of evil which has plagued Hyrule since its inception,” he said quickly, hands clenched at his sides. “Its return was foretold over one hundred years ago, as was the return of Hyrule’s greatest heroes. We had known the tales of them in our mythology, but we had not known the extent of their...accuracy, until we discovered several ancient Sheikah texts.

“They foretold of the Calamity’s resurrection, and of the ways to combat it. We learned of the four Divine Beasts, given to each of the great nations of Hyrule. We learned of the Hero, chosen by the sword that seals the darkness...and we also learned of the princess set to inherit a sacred power—the power to seal Ganon away. Four champions were chosen from the nations of Hyrule, each to pilot a Divine Beast destined for them. The Hero emerged from among our own, and the princess was on the cusp of unlocking her power...”

The old man paused, looking weary as he shook his head in dismay. He turned to face Link again, bitterness set deep into the lines of his face, laced into his tone as he continued on quietly. “But it was not to be. Ganon was cunning, and responded with a plan beyond our imagining. He appeared from deep below Hyrule Castle, seized control of the Divine Beasts, and the Guardians as well, and turned them all against us. The Champions were trapped, the Castle destroyed, the remains of the army scattered. Left with no choice, the princess and the Hero fled, hoping to seek shelter in one of the distant villages.

“But without the aid of the Divine Beasts, nor the sealing power of the princess, the Hero was alone to defend his charge as best he could. Gravely wounded, he too fell in defense of the princess, and all seemed lost.”

He paused once more, turning back to the castle as if he couldn’t face Link any longer. “That princess was my daughter, Zelda...and the Hero...was you Link. You fought valiantly, but even the sword that seals the darkness could not defeat the army of Guardians swarming, or the Calamity looming over it all. The sealing power of the Goddess was granted too late, and you were lost to us...or so it seemed. 

“But the princess survived. It was she who had you placed in the Shrine of Resurrection, and she who went to face the Calamity, alone. One hundred years have passed in terrible silence. 

“Until yesterday,” the King said heavily, meeting Link’s gaze once more. “With your return, the Divine Beasts have awoken, and Zelda calls to you for help. Her strength will soon be depleted, and the champions will surely follow, if they have not already. Ganon will freely regenerate himself and consume this land...”

He paused for a moment, eyes downcast as he frowned. “However, there is still much you can do to prevent this,” he went on. “When I realized the extent of what you had lost in your slumber, I will admit, I thought it was all for nought. To have lost so much, and to be asked to fight for a cause one cannot remember...I put far too much strain on your person in the past, I could not stand to do it once more. I had to know if you were ready for such a burden once again. I hope you will forgive me for withholding information from you.”

Link could only nod, dizzy with all the information, all the terrible half facts swarming around in his mind now. The King gave a small smile which quickly faded as his thoughts returned to the matter at hand. 

“Seeing how you conducted yourself on that tower, when the beasts called out,” he said quietly, looking hard at Link. “Well...it changed my mind. It would seem the champions have a chance yet, and you remember more than I first thought...or at least, enough to get you where you must go. There are many not on this plateau who need your help, beyond my daughter...even beyond the champions. 

“But I know where your sights are set, and I have no right to tell you anywhere else to start your journey. All I can do is suggest a course of action that could lead to your success,” he turned to look out the window, at the split mountains. “I believe that, even with the added strength given to you by the goddess, to go directly to any of the Divine Beasts at this point would be quite reckless. I suggest...that you make your way east, out to one of the villages in the wilderness.”

He pointed out the shattered window, at the river cutting through the mountain, and the road that ran alongside it. “Follow the road out to Kakariko Village,” he said. “There you will find the elder, Impa. She will be able to tell you far more about the path that lies ahead for you. If you make your way past the twin summits of the Dueling Peaks, then follow the road as it proceeds north, you will find Kakariko at the end of the path.”

Link stared out the window, eyes landing first on the tower nestled just in front of the peaks. He could easily get the piece of the map from there first, and then follow the road. Find Kakariko. Speak to Impa. It was easier to have clear goals, to know exactly where to point his feet when he found his way down there. 

Speaking of. 

_ “You said you had something to give me,”  _ Link signed quickly, looking up at the King with confusion.  _ “Something to get off the plateau?” _

“Yes,” he replied simply, nodding. “Yes, I do have something for you. It was never mine to begin with, and I have no use for it as I am now. Zelda gave it to those who took you, and they left it here on the plateau, with clear instruction to those who would find it just who it was for. Of course, they could not have known the entrance would collapse, trapping you here. Still, it is a lucky twist of fate that it was left here for you, where I could keep it from potentially prying hands.

“I think it best you seek it out alone. I have pried enough on your personal matters, and this...is of greater import than the others. More like it will come when you reach Greater Hyrule, and the corners of this land you have frequented,” he turned from the Duelling Peaks, nudging Link back toward the roof of the Temple. 

“In the forest there, just before the cliffside leading to the shrine, there is a cabin. It has been ownerless for centuries, used by travelers passing through, or those with nowhere else to stay. Since the plateau was abandoned, it has been one of my favorite haunts,” he said with a smirk. “You will find what you seek there. Take it, and find your way to Kakariko.”

Link stared at the little cabin, which he could just make out through the thin trees. He glanced back at the old man, nodding before turning to leave. 

“Good luck, young one,” the old man said quietly, watching as Link disappeared over the side of the Temple’s roof. He watched him descend, waited until he was running across the flat ground, headed straight for the cabin, before the green flames burned brighter, and the last King of Hyrule disappeared. 


	3. The Paraglider

_Will...find you..._

_Just a little...longer..._

_Can you hear me?_

_I wish you could hear me..._

_Where did you go?_

_Come back...please..._

Link blinked hard, trying to quiet the noise in his mind, for just a moment so he could focus. It seemed to work, at least partially, the phantoms of old thoughts slowly retreating to where they should have been, leaving him alone for a few seconds. Clenching his hands into fists, he walked faster across the field, eyes set on the blurry outline of the cabin in the distance, the warm sun shining down on it from a clear sky.

He was learning quickly to ignore the whispers of his past. They seemed to grow in the stretches of silence—creeping up on him as he remembered bits and pieces of his thoughts, little fragments of opinions and wishes from his sleep. They were never full memories, too short and confused to be so...too muddled by what he had already begun to lose when he thought them in the first place.

But all of them were similar—all of them were these desperate calls for someone, confused and stumbling thoughts that seemed to trip over each other trying to come to some kind of conclusion. Trying to find a way through the darkness, back to the light. Remembering these thoughts only solidified his belief that he had been calling for them, this person waiting for him in the west, searching for them in the confusing sleep he found himself in.

Had they been calling to him as well, as they had when he slept earlier? Had they heard him?

Shaking his head, he forced his attention to the present. The old man was gone—he had seen him disappear into flames as he looked back at the Temple—and Link doubted he would return. It made sense. His job was done—he had told Link all he could, pointed him in the proper direction and told him where to find the final object he needed before moving on to the next step. All there was left for Link to do was get this mysterious item and use it to leave the plateau, as quickly as possible.

He found it strange to be left to his own devices, wandering once more. There were things he had been told to do, of course—unavoidable tasks that loomed, ever present on the horizon of his thoughts, and the inescapable threat of returning memories (or panic)—but there was no one...with him. He felt the empty space more keenly now that the King had disappeared. It seemed he was doomed to travel with the sense that he had never done it alone before, or at least hadn’t done it alone in quite some time. _Someone_ had always been at his side, whether it was the girl—Zelda, her name was _Zelda—_ or _them..._ he liked traveling with them.

He didn’t like being alone. He wanted...he wanted _them_ to be here.

It upset him on some deep level that he still could not remember their name. To be fair, he had not _remembered_ Zelda’s—or his own, now that he thought about it—he had been told the name by the King. It had found its proper place in his mind when he heard it, giving a name to the vague outline of a girl he managed to catch in his fragmented memories. Certainly it suited the voice he had been hearing.

And the identity of the girl was still lost to him, beyond simple facts. She was a princess, one he had to protect in the past, one who was meant to have this holy power to seal away the Calamity, a compliment to his own power in the sword that sealed the darkness. One hundred years ago, she did not unlock her power before the Calamity returned.

He had fallen in protecting her.

His relationship to the girl, however, was an utter mystery with the memories he had. He had a strange mixed sense of how they had acted, a muddy image (and he could not fault his memory on that fact—this was the fault of their actual relationship, he was certain). She spoke kindly to him now, her voice heavy with the sadness of one hundred years time, but still gentle, and close...as if they were friends. But his thoughts from the past made him think they had not always been so...he had no idea what to make of it.

On this front, he had a clearer sense of his relationship to the one trapped in the Divine Beast. Well...he at least had a sense of his own feelings...it was _slightly_ less confusing was the point. The mystery of _them_ came not in his relationship to them (no, he knew _quite_ well where he felt on that, thank you) but in every other sense of their character. Their name, their appearance, their qualities, their—everything, except their voice (and their importance to him on every level), it was all gone. They were his only beacon of hope in all this dark confusion, and the fact that he could find so little of them in his mind hurt, and hurt gravely.

They didn’t seem to hold that against him, from what he had heard in his sleep. And somehow he got the sense they wouldn’t ever hold it against him, even if he never did remember them fully...no, they wouldn’t. He knew they...cared about him, as he did them. He could feel that even amidst all the grief that hid in their tone as they spoke—they didn’t care that he could not remember. They only cared that he was alive.

But Link _wanted_ to remember them. He _owed_ it to them to find a way to remember them. To reassemble the fragments of them his mind could muster, to find those pieces of their shared past he had left behind and bring them back, to save them from that beast...he would do it. They would not slip away from him as they had before. He would not fail again.

He _would_ save them. No matter the cost.

He came upon the cabin right about then, and allowed his thoughts to wander back to safer topics. It was a small little hut, as decrepit and moss covered as the rest of the plateau seemed to be, although it suited this building better than it had the Temple of Time. Even though whole planks of wood had rotted away, the cabin stood strong, leaning slightly to the right but nonetheless standing. There was no doorway, an old unlit torch light by the door, a cooking pot, a bed, a table slumped in the middle of it all.

And a chest, tucked neatly into the far corner of the structure, just visible in the sunlight streaming through the cracked roof as he came upon the cabin.

Suddenly nervous, Link slowed in the threshold, eying the chest warily before surveying the rest of the cabin first. It was sparse and drafty, and he could see out into the field through the holes in the walls. But there was very little in the cabin to see, beyond the basic layout—the simple bed, the damp table and rotting stool, the mushrooms growing along one of the walls. It must have been a proper structure at some point, but now it just seemed old, a little sad, as much of the plateau was to him. The only thing that seemed out of place was the chest, gleaming brightly, as if it had been left here only a moment ago, rather than sitting here for one hundred years.

Finding nothing else out of the ordinary (and thus, nothing to distract himself with) Link sighed and shuffled over to the chest. His boots left tracks in the dust and dirt that covered the floorboards, at least where grass had not overtaken the wood entirely. It muffled the sound of his steps, so that the sounds of the field beyond could still be heard—the rustling of wind in the trees, animals running through overgrown grass, the occasional buzz of an insect. Link heard each on some level, but his eyes were stuck on the chest, and his mind fixed on the mystery of what it contained.

If he were honest, he might have admitted that he was terrified of whatever it was that lay waiting in the chest. The King had said it belonged to him, an item of great importance in his past. It was something which would likely trigger a memory, or so he expected. Why else would the King have been so hesitant to tell him what it was? It had to be something terribly important, something that had once...mattered to him, a great deal. Something personal, the King had made it seem. But Link hadn’t the slightest clue what the item could be, let alone the memories it would carry with it—would they be good or bad, and of who, and _when?_

What if it was something like—like the Guardian, in the ruins? What if it was another memory of _that day?_ He didn’t want to see all of that again, didn’t want to feel all the pain and the anguish, and—no, he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t possibly do this.

He hovered over the chest, trying to still the shaking in his hands as he looked down at it. Quivering at the mere thought of another memory, shaking before he even knew what was in the chest...this was childish. This was—but he couldn’t see another like _those,_ he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t be able to take it, it was too much...

**_—“...so many memories that go beyond the terrible things you’ve seen so far...”—_ **

**_—“...we had better days than that...you just have to find them...”—_ **

Link crouched down, hand trembling as it hovered over the lid of the chest. They were right, of course, when they had whispered to him as he slept. He knew implicitly that his good memories were equally as obscured from him as his bad memories. There was always a chance that the memory awaiting him was a good one...he certainly hoped it was. He didn’t think he could handle another catastrophic bout of panic. Not now, not when he had to focus, get off this plateau as soon as possible.

Either way, he was wasting time he did not have, and wasting it on fear which would solve nothing and aid no one. If he truly wanted to help them (which of course, he did) then he needed to get on with this. Move past the trepidation and continue—get off this plateau and regain his strength, his sword, his memories, his _everything._ And he could do none of these things without the item waiting for him. The only way to reach them was sitting in this chest, collecting dust as he hesitated out of fear.

Before he could lose his motivation again, he grabbed the lid with both hands and forced it open. Unlike the chest in the cave, this one was well preserved, and opened easily when he pulled on the lid. It swung open, and his hands froze, clutching the sides of the lid tightly as the sunlight hit the object nestled inside the chest.

For several seconds he could do nothing but stare. Slowly, with shaking hands, he reached into the chest and pulled the object out, unfolding the fabric carefully as he sat back on his feet. Wooden beams sprang open under his hands, extending the material across thin supports. He ran his hands across the thick fabric, the smooth wood it was pulled across. A crest shone bright white, in stark contrast to the deeper red of the base fabric, the navy accents around the edges. He stared at the crest, at the shape of the wings, the roundness of the center, and he **_remembered._ **

******

Rito Village was more beautiful at night.

The few times he had been here had only strengthened that opinion, and tonight was not breaking the trend. Days were undeniably pleasant, particularly with the help of Tabantha’s ceaseless wind, but even the most beautiful of days came nowhere close to the nights here. At night, all the stars came alive. The noise of the village wound down, the lanterns dimmed, and he could just...be, for a little while.

Tonight seemed more beautiful than he had ever seen it. The skies were clear and there was a light breeze, just enough to keep the air moving. Occasionally it would disturb the chimes hanging from some of the banisters, giving the wind a musical quality. He relished in the peace of the night here. When the noises of the celebration were quiet enough, he could convince himself it was just another night, some other time when he had weaseled his way here on some excuse. He could almost forget why he really came here.

Almost.

He was sitting on the edge of the largest landing in the village, close to the post, looking out toward the mountains. It wasn’t terribly cold, but he could feel the tips of his ears burning, and his hands were beginning to sting. He had been sitting out here, alone, in the dark, for far too long now. He hadn’t been counting the minutes, but the sun had been setting when he first found this landing, after running off. Someone was bound to notice his absence soon (if they had not already), and drag him back to his proper place. He knew this, and yet he could not bring himself to stand from where he sat, leaning on the post and swinging his feet occasionally.

It was more peaceful out here than it was in there, and there was no one to stare at him, backhanded or otherwise. The villagers meant well enough, but he couldn’t stand their eyes anymore. Sure, they could pretend they had not heard, pretend they didn’t know exactly why his face had been in a careful mask for the last two days. But all the pretending in the world couldn’t get the pity out of their eyes. No, they knew him too well, and he knew _them_ too well. There was very little they could hide on either end.

The princess’ remarks at the event were enough to ensure his departure from it as soon as possible. He had done everything he could not to storm out of the village as soon as she turned her back. Not that she would have cared. Hell, she probably would have rejoiced at his absence. He wanted nothing more than to go down to the stable and leave this place, go back home...wherever that was, anymore. He thought he knew, but...

Instead, he found himself on the landing a few floors down from where she, and the rest of the celebration, was. Close enough that, should something happen, he would be there to end it, but far enough away that he could avoid her all the same. Avoid everyone. If anyone were to ask, he could probably make the excuse of watching the perimeter for attackers.

Not that anyone spoke to him anyway. Barely anyone could understand his only way of communicating, and those who could tended to ignore him. The villagers were nice enough to try, but they were all at the celebration. Besides, there were only a handful of people in the village at the moment who _could_ understand him properly, and they were ignoring him just as expected. The sword had done nothing to change that. If anything, it had made it worse.

He was as alone as he ever was. And he hated it as much as he ever had.

“I thought I would find you here.”

Link froze, but didn’t bother turning around. The sword suddenly felt heavier on his back, and he braced himself for another round of berating, trying to ignore the heaviness in his heart at the prospect. He hated this change, he hated that everything had changed...and yet nothing had changed. He was the same, or at least...he hoped he was. But they all looked at him differently, those that looked anyway. He was still just a shadow, a phantom at the back of their minds, only now he had the great burden of all of their lives strapped to his back.

“It seems I’ve found your favorite hiding place. Besides the roof of the inn, maybe...”

He didn’t turn to look, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. The sword clinked in its sheath, and he had the sudden desire to take it from its place on his back and—throw it, was the immediate desire. But he didn’t move. He only sat, arms wrapped around his legs for a moment, curled up small on the edge of the landing.

There was a sigh behind him, and he was drawn back to the present, and the person standing a few feet behind him. “I’ve always loved this landing...there’s a good view of Hebra, from this point in the village, especially when the skies are clear...It’s almost suspicious how you keep finding my favorite places, you know. You’ve been to the village, what...twice now? Already you’ve left your mark on several of my hideouts.”

He held back a flinch, clenching his jaw as he turned away even more, looking toward the start of the Hebra trail. A thousand potential replies were bouncing around in his mind, but he didn’t say anything. His hands were balled into tight fists at his sides, arms still wrapped around his legs.

Distantly, he heard the sound of someone coming closer, but still he did not move. Not even when he felt something brush his arm as he was joined at his perch on the edge of the landing. He only continued to stare at the mountain path, the sudden desire to disappear into the mountains almost overwhelming. Invisible all the time, and yet as soon as he was seen, he wanted to evaporate.

“I wanted to...apologize.”

He tensed, but said nothing. There was nothing for him to say, and so he waited, listened.

“My behavior was uncalled for. And incredibly rude. And...well, it’s hardly an excuse, but I didn’t know _you_ were the sword’s chosen one.”

Link turned to look at him then, facade cracking for just a moment as he stared at him in the moonlight. Thankfully (or not), he had taken his turn to look out toward the mountains, expression unreadable, as it always was. Link stared at him for a moment before he followed his gaze, frowning.

 _“I didn’t want to be,”_ he signed loosely before grabbing the edge of the landing tightly, trying to sort out his thoughts, and get rid of that terrible notion. It wasn’t the kind of thought he was meant to have, let alone to voice. But now that he had said it, he couldn’t stop himself from continuing. _“I didn’t want this...”_

“I can hardly blame you for that,” he said with a slight shrug. “It isn’t a fate _I_ would have chosen. Not for myself...and certainly not for you. You...deserve better.”

They were quiet for a few moments, the distance between them just a little smaller. For the first time in over an hour, the sounds of the village weren’t grating on his ears, and he felt like he was breathing normally. The sword didn’t seem as heavy anymore, either. It still hung on his back like the branding that it was, but it hurt a little less.

“How long have you been out here?”

 _“An hour or two...I don’t know...”_ Link shook his head before resting it for a moment on his knees. _“I wasn’t keeping track of time.”_

“You’re cold.”

Link shrugged. _“Doesn’t bother me...”_

“Link, you’re shivering.”

He only shrugged, hugging his legs to his chest again. He was right, of course, but Link had no plan of moving any time soon. There was only one place he could go, and he had no desire to see the princess again. Not until he was forced to.

“I really am sorry, for...all of it,” he went on after a pause, and Link looked over again. But he was looking down, into the lake far below them. “I don’t...there’s no excuse for what I said. It wasn’t fair to you, or any of the work you’ve done, and _will_ do for Hyrule.”

Link frowned, turning and raising his hands again, but it went unnoticed.

“I said things that were terrible, and you didn’t deserve to hear them. Even if you weren’t _you,_ my behavior would have been unacceptable—and none of what I said is—is what I actually think of you—”

Link shook his head, looking over at him, but he was still staring off at nothing, a frown set deep into his expression. And he wouldn’t stop talking (typical).

“I see how that—that girl treats you, and I just—” he cut off with a grimace. “For me to have added onto that is despicable. You don’t deserve torment from any side, let alone all of them. And...you’re my friend. At least, I hope so. I want—I just—”

“Revali.”

He jumped, cutting off and looking over at Link quickly. They stared at each other in silence for several seconds, eyes wide as if both of them were surprised by the sudden reappearance of Link’s voice. He spoke so infrequently that it was easy to forget he technically could. Now that Link thought about it, he couldn’t have spoken in front of Revali more than once or twice...and never directly to him. But it had just...happened. He never could explain why he could talk sometimes and other times he couldn’t. They had agreed years ago not to talk about it, and Revali had kept his end of the deal spectacularly.

But now, the question was in his eyes again, like it had been when they were younger. And Link didn’t have an answer for him. So they only stared at each other, mutually confused and surprised, the topic of their conversation temporarily forgotten. For anyone else the silence might have seemed tense, but they were so accustomed to silence it hardly mattered. They only stared at each other, lost for a moment in the great deal of things left unsaid.

Link was the first to look away, down at his hands in his lap. _“Not your fault,”_ he signed quickly, his sudden bout of confidence long dissipated under Revali’s intense (and conveniently unreadable) stare. _“None of it is your fault. You didn’t mean it. I’m not mad...at you...”_

There was a pause, and Revali narrowed his eyes. “And are you mad at someone else?”

Link didn’t answer. He only stared at his hands, stubbornly quiet.

“I suppose that’s answer enough. Or at least as much as you’re allowed to say, I assume,” Revali said lightly. “Look...I may be an ass, but...we’ve always been able to talk somehow. We’re still...friends. That fancy stick on your back doesn’t change anything. Not to me, anyway...”

Link looked up at him, trying to read his expression, and mostly failing. _“Thank you,”_ he signed slowly.

Revali huffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t mention it.”

They were quiet for a few seconds, sitting together on the edge of the landing and watching the wind blow stray leaves and snowflakes around in the distance. The moonlight gave the world a bluish tint, paling everything it touched to a steely version of itself. But it could do very little to shift the darker tones of the village’s wood, or the dark blue of the lake water. It made the grass look pale, the paths blurring and blending into the wooded areas. Still, it was beautiful, in its own moonlit way.

“How long will you be in the village?” Revali asked quietly after a moment, glancing over at him.

He frowned for a moment, thinking. _“I don’t know...as long as she says.”_

“You’re completely at her mercy then?”

 _“I go where she goes,”_ Link signed with a shrug, but the sourness of his expression was enough to show his true displeasure with the setup. _“King’s orders, I don’t have a choice.”_

Revali hummed. “Well, you’re here. You might as well enjoy it while you still can. Now! If you’re done moping, there’s something I want to show you.”

Link hesitated, watching as Revali stood, looking down at him expectantly. _“I wasn’t moping.”_

“Of course you weren’t, now get up.”

Frowning, Link did as he was told, pushing himself to his feet and facing him. He realized Revali was a few inches taller than he was, now...it had been too long since they last saw each other. Months and months of nonsense had been keeping him in Central Hyrule, rather than home or...second home. Getting the sword had saddled him with an unexpected amount of responsibility at the castle...particularly when the King decided he should be the one to protect Zelda. And so he had found himself not only at the mercy of a girl who despised him (with the lovely burden of the sword always on his back) but in a place he didn’t know, with a swarm of people who couldn’t understand him.

It was why he had jumped on the opportunity to come to Rito Village. He missed his...friend. Oh to hell with it, he missed Revali, whatever he was to him, friend (more than friend). He censored everything else, there was no sense in censoring his own _thoughts._

“Stop gawking,” Revali taunted before turning around, waving for Link to follow after him (and completely missing how red Link’s face became—and it wasn’t the cold that was to blame). “Since you’re wingless, we have to walk, and it’s quite a distance this way.”

Link caught up to him quickly as they started down another level of the village. The sounds of the celebration grew even fainter as they descended, which Link was thankful for. He poked Revali roughly in the arm, smirking a little as Revali turned toward him again.

“What is it?”

_“Could have flown us down.”_

“True,” Revali allowed, slowing his pace to match Link’s as they came to the bridge out of the village. “But I can hardly speak to you when you’re clinging to my back. And I do enjoy your company, you know...despite my remarks earlier.”

_“I like flying with you.”_

Revali froze for a step, staring at Link’s hands as if they would repeat what he had said. It was just a moment, but Link knew him too well not to notice the shift in his demeanor. He cleared his throat after a second, looking away, hiding the smile creeping into his eyes.

“Yes, well...” he trailed off, voice strained. He cleared his throat again. “Perhaps we could fly back, then, after...”

Link smirked, watching him for a moment before nudging him, getting his attention. _“After what?”_

“No,” Revali said, regaining his composure with a shake of the head and a cross of his arms. “Not a chance. You’re not going to weasel it out of me, I won’t allow it.”

_“Not even if I say please?”_

“Don’t start with me.”

Link grinned. _“Where are we going?”_

“We’ll get there soon enough, can’t you wait?”

_“Revali.”_

“Link.”

He raised his hands again to continue, but whatever he had meant to say was soon forgotten.

A guard nodded to them as they came to the end of the bridge, eyes catching temporarily on the sword. They stared, for just a moment too long, long enough for whatever neutrality Link had regained to dissipate with the next gust of wind. He felt that all too familiar numbness creep over him, the smile slip from his face. He hardly noticed when Revali glared rather obviously at the guard, throwing an arm around Link and picking up their pace.

“Alright, you’ve seen your fill,” he said sharply, and the guard balked, turning away quickly, but Revali wasn’t done yet. “You’re meant to guard the entrance to the village, not terrorize its guests.”

The guard sputtered something or other, but they were already several feet away, and Revali showed no signs of slowing down. It was only when they had crossed the last of the Rito bridges, when the path opened up before them that he dropped his arm from Link’s shoulder.

“Idiots,” he muttered darkly, arms crossed as he shook his head angrily. “Complete idiots. They’re almost as bad as your foul mouthed princess, staring like that.”

 _“Just...keep walking,”_ Link signed, hands a little jittery as he tried to shake off the heaviness in his chest.

“I’m sorry.”

_“Still not your fault.”_

“Yes, well...unlike _others,_ I believe you are worthy of an apology,” he said forcefully, meeting Link’s gaze with the same intensity he had before. “Especially from those who _should_ know when to give them...or should know when to keep their mouth shut, at _least.”_

All Link could do was stare back at him for several seconds, frankly a little stunned. Revali had always spoken his mind, but...this was a surprise.

 _“You don’t like her,”_ Link signed after a moment, gestures careful.

Revali laughed, shaking his head a little as they took the turn of the path, leading toward Hebra and away from the stable. “What tipped you off, _Hero?”_

Link didn’t reply. He only watched Revali, waiting for him to explain.

“You’re right of course. I’m none too keen on your little _princess,”_ he said flatly, arms crossed. “Particularly after seeing the way she treats you. I won’t claim to know everything about the particulars of Hylian etiquette, but I am relatively certain it isn’t polite to treat one’s only source of protection as a doormat.”

Link stared. _“She—”_ he stalled, completely unsure how to continue. _“People can hear you, you know.”_

He scoffed. “Let them hear me, then. I don’t care. I have no shame.”

_“Revali—”_

“She may be failing in her duties, but that does not mean she has to torment you for succeeding in your own. You receive enough barbarity from the rest of those around you,” he went on, fixing Link with a hard stare. “Bossing you around, and completely ignoring you when she isn’t—it’s petty nonsense, Link, and you know it. You don’t deserve that, just because some sword chose you.”

Link snorted. _“Some sword...it’s more than some sword...”_

Revali waved him off. “Either way, her behavior in general is hardly tolerable, even by Hylian standards,” he grumbled, sounding deadly serious. “Hardly a word to the elder before she was running about, trying to get her grubby little hands on Medoh...and shouting at you every opportunity, don’t think I missed that when you were ignoring me. She may technically hold sway over me, but I have no qualms about giving her what-for in your honor.”

 _“No,”_ Link signed quickly, shaking his head at the idea of Revali shouting at the princess (although...it would be a sight to see). _“Thank you, but no.”_

Revali smirked. “Well, let me know. I’m always willing to give a good talking to, particularly to those who deserve it.”

 _“She isn’t worth the risk,”_ Link signed, gestures almost blunt, expression undoubtedly sour. _“Probably ignore you anyway.”_

“Well!” Revali said with a bit of a laugh, watching him. “You do have an opinion on her then. Good to know...don’t worry, I won’t have myself thrown out of this whole thing for shouting at a child. Oh, now that I think about it...I could always refuse her offer of the Divine Beast.”

Link cocked an eyebrow, giving him a dubious look.

“I forget you know me too well,” he said flatly. “Fine, I’ll accept. But I can at least string her along for a while, let her think I’m going to refuse.”

Link nodded, smiling a little. _“I’ll have to stay in the village longer.”_

Revali smiled back. “Good plan.”

They went quiet then, content to enjoy the scenery for a few moments. It was slowly getting colder as they got closer to the mountains, but the night was clear, and the wind wasn’t too terrible. Snow drifted down lightly from the peaks, dusting the path an intermittent white, making it seem brighter than it was in Tabantha.

Link had always liked it here. He didn’t get to come as often as he would like, but the feeling of ease that crept up on him during his time near Rito Village was always a welcome relief from the rest of Hyrule. This place had an aura of serenity to it, and it had always been a place of calm to him. Only one place came even close, and it had been soiled for him in the last year. Since he had come back with this terrible sword, everything had been soiled by the burden thrust on him out of nowhere. Nothing had been the same.

Except Rito Village, that is.

For a moment, it seemed this place too would be ruined for him. Tailing the princess here had been a welcome reprieve from all his strange isolation at the castle. He knew the princess did not like him—that much was painfully clear, even after only a few months of being near her. Traveling with her was never easy, nor was it enjoyable. But he had thought that by traveling to Rito Village, a place he knew well (and seeing perhaps the one person he could call a friend) things might return to some kind of normalcy. He could be where eyes weren’t constantly on him, watching and judging and coming back disappointed.

But then he had to overhear Zelda talking to a certain Rito, asking him to take on the “distinct honor” of piloting a Divine Beast. And he had recognized the voice to reply, and for a moment, he had been happy. Revali had replied with enthusiasm first, sounding enthused by the idea of piloting Medoh. But then disdain had crept into his tone at discovering the role of the Divine Beasts—as defense for the one who wielded that horrible sword strapped to his back. Both Zelda and Revali had made it clear their opinions on the matter, and their apparent distaste for the wielder of the sword.

And both had frozen when they noticed Link in the doorway, listening to them, expression carefully controlled (but he couldn’t hide the hurt from his eyes).

Zelda hardly cared (clearly), but she had the decency to stop speaking. Revali cared, but Link had walked away before he had the chance to say a word. He’d called after him, but Link had dove over the side of the railing, climbing barehanded down the side of the village’s pillar and dropping onto the roof of the inn. If Revali saw him, he did nothing to stop him. He sat there for a while, and was “asleep” by the time Zelda returned to the inn for the day. Revali didn’t make an appearance.

That was two days ago, and he hadn’t spoken to either of them much since...not that Zelda made any effort to listen to him, regardless of his intentions. It had been a silent two days, spent wandering from hiding place to hiding place, keeping one eye on Zelda as he was forced to, but with his thoughts on entirely different things. Revali’s words haunted him, but he couldn’t bring himself to find him. It hurt too much. And so he had spent the two days preceding the celebration lurking in the shadows of Rito Village, eating, sleeping, and spending all of his time alone.

It was almost exactly like his life at the castle, those two days.

It didn’t matter now. Link knew Revali hadn’t meant what he said. All of his comments stemmed from the same part of him that demanded he work himself to near death constantly. He had to be the best at everything, and had worked hard to get himself to where he was. It was understandable for him to be...displeased at the idea of being relegated to the role of support. Besides, he had made it clear he would be willing to help. He’d always been willing to help Link.

The path split off, one half leading to the climbing path, and the little cabin nestled next to the mountain. The other branched back toward Tabantha, wrapping around Lake Totori and skirting through the trees. Link craned to look toward the cabin at the base of the mountain path, confusion clear in his eyes as they continued down the path away from it. After a few seconds he nudged Revali.

“What?”

_“Where are we going?”_

Revali smirked. “So impatient.”

Link nudged him again, looking expectant. Revali only shook his head, waving him forward.

“We’re almost there, it’s just around the corner,” he said, pointing to the curve of the path. “Trust me, it’s very worth the walk.”

Link frowned, but said nothing else, resigned to trusting his judgement on the matter rather than trying to get a straight answer out of him. Revali may have been the one to talk the most, but if he didn’t want to explain something, there was very little Link could do to convince him otherwise. So he followed along after him, rounding the path and starting up a small hill.

It was colder here than it was in the village, right on the edge of Tabantha and Hebra’s blurry border. There were strong winds coming from somewhere, but Link couldn’t tell where—nothing strange was blowing on the path, but the sound of roaring wind was undeniable. A shrine sat dark and gloomy just a little further down the path, but they ignored it, opting to head straight, where the path was the clearest. It almost looked new, this section of snow-dusted road—clear and not worn down by endless parades of people and horses and carts. Revali didn’t seem to notice, gaze fixed on something just over the hill as he waved Link forward impatiently.

“Right through here,” he said, ushering him on. Link picked up his pace, but soon came to a halt at the sight before him.

The path opened up, and they suddenly came upon the source of the loud winds. There was a seemingly bottomless pit directly in front of them, high cliff walls surrounding it, and a protrusion of rock in its center. Massive updrafts soared up from deep below the ground, creating an alcove of surprisingly warm, violent air. Targets had been set up all along the cliff walls, glowing softly in the dim light. There was a small hut tucked against the back cliff, with a fire, and a landing hanging right over the edge of the updrafts.

Link had come to a stop in the entryway, and Revali stopped with him. They stood at the entrance for several seconds as Link looked around, and Revali watched him, looking oddly nervous. The longer they stood there, the more pronounced the expression became, until he appeared quite concerned, following closely as Link wandered over to the edge of the path. He looked down the cliff edge to the water below, the harsh updrafts blowing his hair back. Revali watched from a few feet away.

“Well?” he said after a moment, eyes flitting around the place before settling on Link again. “What do you think?”

 _“This is...amazing,”_ Link signed, shaking his head and looking over at him, smiling big. _“You did this?”_

“With some help, yes. I asked the elder for a place to train in aerial combat, and he accepted,” Revali said with a shrug. “Welcome to the Flight Range.”

Link smiled again, looking around at the splendor of it all. Dozens of questions came to mind, but he didn’t bother with any of them, happy to just take it in for a moment while he could. Questions could come later, particularly if they really were staying in the village longer than planned.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Revali said after another minute or so, sounding somewhere between harried and grudgingly proud. “Come on, this is only part one.”

 _“Part one?”_ Link signed confusedly, but Revali only grabbed him by the arm, tugging him over to the ladder leading up to the hut.

“Yes, part one,” Revali said, pointing for him to go up the ladder. He took off as Link started, landing above him in the hut with practiced ease. “You think I dragged you out here just to see the Flight Range? My pride may be extensive, but it isn’t _that_ big. No, I brought you here for something else, now come along.”

Link chose to say nothing in reply to that, pulling himself up and into the hut and looking around. Despite its size it looked quite cozy, with a cooking pot and a few shelves, stocked with arrows and spare bows. Revali’s best was strapped to his back as it always was, but there were almost a dozen more scattered about in various states of modification.

“Alright weapon master, get over here,” Revali said impatiently, arms crossed. “There will be time for admiring my craftsmanship later. We’re here for a reason, remember?”

_“What are you trying to do with these?”_

“Link.”

_“Will these shoot multiple arrows?”_

**“Link.”**

He held up his hands in surrender and came over where Revali stood, half a smile still lurking in his expression. There was a little dresser of sorts against the farthest wall, which Revali stood in front of, blocking it from view. He waved Link over, impatience masking what seemed like genuine concern somewhere in his eyes.

 _“Are you alright?”_ Link signed, eyes narrowed as he looked up at him.

“Hush,” Revali said bluntly, grabbing Link by the shoulder and pushing him in front of him, hands still resting on his shoulders as they stood in front of the dresser together now. There was a box resting on top, tied tightly with string. “I was going to wait until your birthday, but then again, I’m impatient, and you’ve had a bad day, no thanks to me.”

Link squirmed, looking back at him awkwardly (Revali refused to loosen his grip on his shoulders). _“You got me something?”_

“Well, had something made might be the more apt phrase,” Revali said thoughtfully. “This isn’t the sort of thing you can just buy...but, it hardly matters. So! Consider this your birthday gift...although...I’ll likely still have to get you something for the actual day...”

_“You didn’t have to get me anything.”_

“Link, so help me—”

_“Revali.”_

“We’re here already, aren’t we? You can shout at me later all you want about not getting you things,” he said, some of the concern coming back into his expression. “I... _wanted_ to get you something. Now _please—_ open it before I start molting from all this suspense.”

Link snorted. _“You don’t even molt.”_

“Not the point, Link,” Revali sighed, tightening his grip on Link’s shoulders and forcing him to turn around again. “Just open it.”

He squirmed again in a vain effort to escape Revali’s grip, sighing when he failed spectacularly. His eyes landed on the box, string holding it shut in a clean knot. There would be no avoiding this. Besides, whatever it was, it had Revali all worked up over whether or not he would like it. And as much as Link enjoyed pushing his buttons, it seemed genuine this time. He didn’t want to torture him...at least not any longer.

Without further delay, he pulled the string off the box, lifting the lid quickly.

The first thing he saw was the symbol of the Rito in bright white across the surface, vivid against the darker red of the rest of the fabric. It was a symbol he knew well, from the landing in the village to the shields the Rito warriors carried, the crest was everywhere in Tabantha. Setting the lid down, he reached into the box, carefully pulling the object out.

As he did, the object unfolded in his hands, wooden beams opening up easily and pulling the fabric apart. The wood was smooth and dark, and incredibly sturdy for how thin the beams were. The entire thing couldn’t have weighed more than a few pounds, even with the thick fabric and wood framing. For a few seconds, all he could bring himself to do was stare at the strange contraption, turning it in his hands and looking at all of the pieces. It could fold quite small, as it had been in the box, but when opened fully it was about his shoulder width across, cut in a curving triangle. The fabric was slightly loose across the frame, and it caught the wind even in the secluded hut, flapping in the breeze.

“It’s a paraglider,” Revali said, watching Link collapse and reopen the contraption several times. “The village used to make a great deal of them when Hylians lived in Hebra, so they could use the updrafts like the Rito. Now they’re practically nonexistent...I had to have this one made—”

Link spun around quickly, still holding the paraglider (closed, thankfully) in one hand as he signed frantically with the other. _“Use the updrafts?”_

Revali stared at him, watching him practically bounce with excitement. “Yes,” he said carefully, almost wary. “You hold it above you, and the fabric will catch the wind, and keep you afloat.”

Link stared, a full smile lighting up his face. _“Fly with you?”_

“Well, it’s hardly flying, but—”

He cut off rather abruptly as Link practically launched at him, still holding the paraglider in one hand, even as he gave a crushing hug. Revali went completely still, seemingly stunned into silence for a few seconds, standing ramrod straight and utterly frozen. Then, after what seemed in the moment like an eternity later (but was really only a few seconds) he seemed to understand. Slowly, like he thought Link would run from him at any moment (which he certainly would _not)_ he put his arms around him too, pulling him just a touch closer.

“You’re welcome,” Revali half whispered, a genuine smile creeping into his eyes.

******

Link came back to reality gasping, still staring at the crest sewn across the thick fabric of the paraglider. He looked around the cabin, half expecting it to have morphed into the Flight Range, the sound of roaring winds to overwhelm his ears. He felt out of place, out of time maybe, as if the memory hadn’t really ended, it was meant to continue now. But no such things occurred. The cabin remained its dilapidated self, and the gentle sounds of the Great Plateau were all to meet his ears. There was a different sword on his back, and a shield and strange bow, clothes that weren’t his own (and no one beside him). He was still stuck, confused and short on memories, one hundred years after that memory had happened.

He was still alone.

The paraglider sat limp in his hands, as beautiful as it had been when he first opened that box. His hands were shaking where they clung to it, and he felt drained, like he had run across the entirety of Hyrule in one day without stop. He couldn’t seem to muster a coherent thought, beyond shock, and repeating of the memory over and over. Trying to permanently fix it in his mind, remember all the details and never forget them again (not ever, he promised, he _promised)._ If this was the way getting all of his memories back would be...he shook his head at himself. It was worth it. A thousand times if he had to, it was worth it.

It was worth it, so worth it to see Revali, to remember anything with him would have been more than he could ask for. To remember him, to remember just a few moments, it was terrifying and fantastic and painful and a swarm of other feelings he didn’t bother trying to name. Because he remembered Revali.

He _remembered Revali,_ and that was all that mattered.

Or at least...he remembered parts of him. But he couldn’t bring himself to care that so much was still missing, couldn’t let the reality drag him down just yet. He was too...relieved, too relieved to have remembered him in any capacity beyond his voice. He remembered _him—_ his name, and his face, and his (horribly unreadable and stupidly beautiful) eyes, and—and—he could almost cry, if he weren’t so exhausted by the thought of it. If he wasn’t already, he couldn’t tell, and he didn’t care either way.

Little details kept slotting into place, and he could hardly believe how he had forgotten any of them. Rito Village, with it’s secluded view of the mountains and pleasant breeze, air always moving and changing and shifting. The paraglider, and how he could tell as he opened and closed it, just as he had in the memory, that he remembered perfectly well how to use it. Then of course, there was Revali, and all the details of _him_ Link could grab from the memory. Vague senses of memories drifting further back in time, and forward as well...it seemed he had stumbled upon a midpoint somehow. But still, he had found Revali somehow...he had remembered him, at least a little, and that was better than nothing...

It was dizzying, this sudden remembrance, more than the other memories. The Guardian had triggered panic, and fear, and a slew of other debilitating emotions which still brewed somewhere in the back of his thoughts. But this memory, this little piece of an encounter with Revali...it made his mind run wild for completely different reasons. Some of it was this floaty, giddy feeling from finding him, from remembering something beyond the tormenting images of—he wasn’t going to think about that.

The point was, there was a brighter tint to this memory than the last, even as he knew on some level that he had already at that point been steeped in a destiny he didn’t want. He’d been in a thick gloom at the start of that memory, the fuzzy line where it began. Revali had dragged him out of that slump (as he got the sense he did often) and the memory really had been a good one. He couldn’t stop the relieved smile from spreading across his face, couldn’t stop staring at the paraglider, disbelieving and stunned.

He ran his hands over the fabric, the thin wooden beams holding it open. The dye was still bright, the supports well maintained—he had cared for this gift, very dearly even as he used it every opportunity he could. He knew he had cherished it, as he did everything he got from Revali (though he couldn’t recall...where he got the sense from) and he was...unexplainably glad to have the paraglider back in his possession. It was the only thing he had at the moment that felt _right—_ this sword was wrong, this shield was wrong, the bow, even his clothes, it was all just _wrong._ But the paraglider was his, and his alone, and it was in its proper place now.

With him.

All the same, the empty spaces between memories seemed louder now, as his thoughts recentered. Like fading panic, his thoughts slowly sank back to the present moment, and the gaps in his memory were quick to pronounce themselves once again. All the things he was still missing, the memories and the facts of his past telling him to _find more,_ to get it all back before it was too late. He needed to remember all of his past, not just these little pieces.

He needed to remember all of _Revali._ All of...their relationship. He wanted to remember it all. And then...then he wanted it to stop being only in his memory. He wanted things to go back to what they were meant to be...he wanted this to be over, just like he felt in the memory. Remembering Revali (even in this smallest instance) had left him with so much happiness, but it was too fleeting, too short before reality closed back in, and he realized he was alone, with nothing but his foggy past. And Revali was alone, trapped inside that Divine Beast, waiting for him.

He had to get off this plateau. _Now._

Determination took the place of the shakiness the memory left him with, the same part of him that had forced him from his panic in the cave now taking full charge. There was no sense in kneeling on this dirty floor, clinging to a piece of his past and trying to grasp it all from just one memory. More would come (and he might even know where to look). For now, he had a job to do, a set of tasks which needed to be done as soon as possible. There would be no point in regaining his memories if he could not complete the tasks before him.

Folding the paraglider back into its closed position, Link stood, brushing off his pants and turning quickly from the chest. The sunlight felt warm on his skin as he came out of the cabin, rounding the side and looking into the distance, at the Duelling Peaks looming in the east. The words of the King echoed in his mind, eyes fixing first on the road trailing next to the rivers, and the Tower tucked into the side of the mountain, and what was beyond those summits.

Walking quickly across the field, he came to the edge of the plateau, what was once a great stone wall now crumbling to the ground far below. He looked down for only a moment, at the well worn path waiting for him, the ruins spreading out along the road to the east.

The paraglider snapped open in his hands, catching the breeze easily. For a moment he hesitated, going through the tasks laid out before him. Find Kakariko Village, and Impa, as the King has told him. Conquer the shrines across Hyrule and regain his strength, and his sword. Find his memories where they waited for him, remember everything he had forgotten, reclaim the pieces of himself he had left behind.

Go to Rito Village, and get Revali back.

Grabbing the paraglider by the handles, Link fixed his eyes on the Duelling Peaks in the distance, feeling the wind on his face. For just a second, he paused, closing his eyes and letting himself be content with the feeling of rightness this gave him. If he focused hard enough, he could almost hear him, could almost feel his presence somewhere close by, watching him, waiting for him. If he tried, he could almost feel his arms again, like in the memory, holding him just a little closer than he had dared to try. For a moment, this was all he thought of, allowing himself the moment of comfort, of calm before the continuation of the storm.

Then he took a deep breath, and held the paraglider high. He looked up at the crest of the Rito emblazoned on the fabric over his head, felt the wind blow harder through his hair. Feeling just the slightest ghost of a smile cross his face, he tightened his grip on the paraglider, and jumped.


	4. Discovered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I wanted to really get this one how I wanted it. Thanks to all who read!

_ Have to...get out... _

_ What happened? _

_ Can’t...remember... _

_ Where are you? _

_ Come back... _

_ Please... _

Link jolted back to reality, shaking his head at himself for dozing off. His eyes had somehow drifted westward once more, to the blurry outline of Vah Medoh, which still circled in the distance, dark and gloomy on the horizon. He shook his head again, pressing his hands to his eyes and trying to quiet the thoughts constantly distracting him whenever he let his guard down. Shivering slightly at the harsh wind he only just realized was blowing, he turned away from the view, back toward the east, where Kakariko waited. 

He was standing on the summit of the southern half of the Duelling Peaks, having just completed the final of the two shrines hidden there. With the one below him and the one he had found before crossing the river, he had found four since leaving the Great Plateau. His original reason for lingering on the Peaks’ summit was to see if he could mark more shrines with the slate. He managed to find a handful that were close by before he caught sight of the Divine Beast, and his thoughts were drawn to the blurry past. 

The wind blew harder, and he was once again brought back to the numerous tasks at hand. Wrapping his arms around himself and trying to keep somewhat warm, Link looked around the summit, trying to find the best way down. He had climbed most of the way here, after jumping from the last shrine to the next cliff. But climbing all the way down, even via the more sloping side of the mountain, would be a long and arduous process. 

No, he didn’t have the time for such things. The sun was already beginning to set. He needed to reach Kakariko by nightfall, hopefully speak to Impa as soon as possible. Besides, he could feel the exhaustion creeping up on him, the fatigue from scaling the mountain coupled with the puzzles of the shrines and all that had happened on the plateau before he even came here. He needed to reach Kakariko as soon as he could—he did  _ not  _ want to be forced to stop before then. He wanted to be done with this, this...arbitrary set of tasks he had to complete just to be strong enough to end this. 

He wanted Revali back. 

The Sheikah Slate hummed at his side as he walked closer to the edge of the summit, alerting him to a shrine nearby. Frowning, he pulled it out, looking closely at the broken map and trying to determine what direction it wanted him to follow. After some trial and error, he managed to sort out that the slate wanted him to go northeast, blinking insistently at him about it too. 

Glancing into the distance, he saw the strange rock formations of what he assumed was Kakariko Village. A few of the tallest structures were poking out above the intermittent peaks, dark wood sharply contrasted to the pale tan rocks surrounding them. There must have been a shrine near Kakariko, or at least along the way. 

Sighing, Link put the slate back on his belt and unhooked the paraglider. Another trial to face, another spirit orb to collect, another notch off the list of seemingly endless obstacles. But a step forward was a step forward, he supposed. He couldn’t afford to miss any of these things—he couldn’t risk the safety of the great deal of people relying on him on his own exhaustion at the thought of all that lay ahead. All he could do was continue. 

At least he could fly down to the shrine...

He felt...inexplicably better, having the paraglider in his possession again. True, he hadn’t known to miss it just twelve hours ago, but having it back was still an improvement. He felt more...present, more himself. Perhaps it was the memory that had come with it, or the swarm of half founded feelings that surged up when he had jumped off the plateau. Either way, he felt better. More whole. It was almost the same feeling as when he had taken the bokoblin’s sword, on the plateau. A feeling of...rightness, of ease in his own self, or confidence in the course of his direction. Only this time, it was stronger, because there was no improper paraglider (like there was an improper sword)—this was  _ his,  _ and  _ only _ his, as it had been in the past. 

He tried to focus on that feeling of ease as he floated down from the peak, following the hum of the Sheikah Slate until he caught sight of the dark stone shrine, far below him and surrounded by water. It came up to the very edge of the platform, it seemed, and a nearby waterfall doused the rest of the shrine in cold water. Link wondered for a moment why a shrine had been built in the middle of a small lake, but disregarded the thought quickly as he landed on the platform, pulling the Sheikah Slate from his belt with his free hand. 

“Hey—what are you doing?”

Link froze, slate hovering a few inches above the terminal before he pulled it away, quickly snapping it back onto his belt. He turned quickly to face the new voice, instinctively reaching for the sword still strapped to his back, in case—

But it was just a woman, looking curiously at him as his hand hesitated in reaching for his weapon. She was dressed simply, warm clothes that looked worn from time spent traveling. Her hair was short and dark, and her eyes were big, and very tired looking. She had a small lantern at her side, already lit despite the remaining daylight, and she stared at Link like he was very much out of place.

To be fair, he supposed he did look strange. He was just some scruffy looking kid who floated down from the nearby mountain, dressed in rags, with stolen equipment strapped to his back. Not to mention the Sheikah Slate (and the paraglider), which she glanced once at before fixing her curious gaze again on Link. 

“I’ve been watching this shrine for a day or so now, since it started glowing,” she said, her voice high and sharp as she spoke. “Never seen anybody but you even get close to it. All those spikes, and the water...sort of turned people off to it, you know? Then you come flying down from the Peaks on some sheet and just land right on it? And mess with it? It’s a little suspicious, don’t you think?”

Link stared at her. She frowned at his silence, arms crossing as she squinted suspiciously at him. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” she said flatly. “Where’d you come from?”

He blinked at her, confused. Why would she need to know where he had come from? Hell, he didn’t even really know...well, realistically he did know, but as for his place of origin, his home...he didn’t have a clue. He had no idea how to answer that question...

Closing the paraglider, he pointed with his free hand to the summit of the mountain. She followed his eyes before snorting, turning her attention back to him as he put the paraglider away, dusting the fabric off carefully. 

“Yeah, I know you came from the mountain, that’s not what I meant. I  _ mean  _ where are you  _ from?” _

Link frowned, although he had of course known what she really meant. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem keen to drop the subject, fixing her tired gaze on him with stubborn determination. 

He shrugged. 

Shaking her head with a sigh, she moved on. “You got a name?” she asked bluntly. 

He nodded without thought. 

She waited a few seconds before sighing again and looking upward, clearly frustrated with him. “Well? Spit it out, what is it?”

_ “Link,”  _ he signed carefully, spelling it out, even as he knew she likely wouldn’t understand him. 

She stared at his hands for a moment, surprise clear in her eyes. Then the expression shifted, and she looked up at Link again, eyes dark with something that was almost...remorseful. 

“You—” she cut off, shaking her head at herself. “You don’t—”

He shook his head. She had the decency to look absolutely mortified. 

“Oh...I’m sorry. I’ve been terribly rude,” she said quietly, sounding completely genuine. “I’ve...I’ve been watching the shrine since it started glowing, thinking something might happen, and—well, I’m pretty tired. And I get...stupid when I’m tired. Um—I’m Sagessa. You said your name was Link, right?”

A little surprised, he nodded. 

“What are you doing to the shrine?”

He frowned, fiddling with the Sheikah Slate on his belt. After a moment he settled on a shrug, watching her carefully. Thankfully, she didn’t seem too committed to the question, still avoiding his eyes with red cheeks. 

“Well, um...” she looked back toward the oddly shaped building a hundred or so feet away. “I’m going back to the stable, I’m sorry I...interrupted whatever it is you’re doing. But uh...if you need a rest, or a cooking pot, the stable’s got everything you need. My family runs it...”

He watched her warily for a few seconds before glancing at the building she had pointed out. Only then did he notice it’s strange structure. The top was shaped like the head of a horse, with a round base and a tented roof. There was a fenced enclosure surrounding it, with saddled horses grazing, as well as cuckoos, goats, and a few sheep. A few other people were milling about, huddled by the cooking fire or wandering into the tent, where he could just see a few beds sprawled around. 

It looked like a nice enough place, he supposed...but he had no plans of staying. He was only here for the shrine. She didn’t need to know that, though. He didn’t want to be rude to this girl, even if she had been suspicious of him before. Better suspicious than—

_ “Thank you,”  _ he signed, looking at her. 

“Y-Yeah...” she replied shakily, her face still red from embarrassment. “Um...don’t mention it.”

With that, she turned quickly, sprinting back toward the stable with reckless abandon. Link watched her run until she reached the counter, talking animatedly with the person behind it. Their eyes flashed over to the shrine, but it was too far to determine their expression. Still, they stared for several seconds before the girl said something, and they turned their attention back to her. Another man from inside the tent came around the counter, leaning on it and listening attentively to whatever it was the girl was saying. Then he too turned, peering over at Link curiously. 

Before he could feel the additional set of eyes on him, Link turned back toward the pedestal, averting his eyes and holding the slate to its surface. It flashed bright blue and he winced, pulling the slate away and putting it back on his belt. As the door to the shrine pulled open, he hurried inside, glad once again for the retreat into darkness that the shrine’s puzzle would bring.

He didn’t like being stared at. 

Unfortunately, the shrine was simple, and took him less than fifteen minutes to complete. Just a straightforward puzzle with waterfalls. The cryonis rune made the whole thing child’s play. Even as he took his time, carefully picking over every area of the shrine he could access, Link knew he was flying through this puzzle. The sun had barely moved at all when the platform brought him back to the entrance to the shrine. Another spirit orb, a better weapon, and one puzzle later, he was back exactly where he had been, with this strange girl staring at him from the water’s edge. 

“You—you went  _ inside?”  _ she sputtered as he walked out, peering behind him toward the platform before looking at the shrine’s surface. “I saw the lights turn blue—you—how did you do that?”

Link only shrugged, wanting to end the encounter as quickly as possible. He put the slate back on his belt and started trudging through the shallow water, eyes set on the path that lead into the mountains. Kakariko lay somewhere down that path, and with it everything he still had to accomplish. He had to keep moving. 

“That’s amazing!” she said, awe clear in her voice. “You—you really are—”

He froze, staring at her with a strange mix of unanchored emotions swirling around in his eyes. Part of it was confusion, part fear, but a large portion of it was dread, the same dread he remembered feeling when the guard outside Rito Village had stared in the memory. He got the urge to retreat back into the shrine, away from this girl’s wide eyed stare, from the eyes everywhere. Throw the sword over the edge of the landing, watch it fall to the water below. No, he didn’t even have the sword, and he wasn’t in Rito...

Suddenly the world felt entirely too small, and he wanted nothing more than to run—well...he didn’t know where, but he knew to  _ who,  _ and it wasn’t possible...a fragment of a memory tugged at his mind, but it slipped from his grasp too fast. He frowned, trying to stem the numbness that followed. 

“I’m sorry,” Sagessa said with a smile that was too bright, shaking her head a little. “I’m—getting ahead of myself. Just—come to the stable, please? There’s—my uncle asked to speak to you.”

Link looked up at her from where his eyes had found the ground, feeling very distant from himself, but he nodded all the same. She smiled again and turned, waving for him to follow, and so he did, even though he felt like his thoughts were drifiting off from him, disappearing with the wind. He felt like he was walking to his execution. 

_ Calm down, _ he needed to calm down. This girl wasn’t—she didn’t mean anything by it, by staring and making strange comments. Hell, that guard in Rito hadn’t meant anything, but—

“So you’re Link, then?”

Link looked up, bringing his thoughts back to the current moment. An older man, the one behind the stable counter, was watching him strangely, half skeptical and half...awed. Link tried not to be upset by the second.

“I’m Tasseren,” the man said, voice gruff. “I run the stable, with my family of course. Been running this place for over a century, since the kingdom was real small. Only time we weren’t running this place was when the kingdom fell, and we had to retreat to Fort Hateno.”

The man looked him up and down before coming out from behind the counter. “The land behind the stable is where the last battle took place,” he said, pointing to the rolling field that sprawled out into the distance. “No one knows what happened, but legend says that the princess and the Hero met their fate in that field. Some say the Hero fell somewhere near here...That place is a grave for thousands of Hylian soldiers, and all those Guardians still laying around...”

Link winced, hiding the crack in his facade by fiddling with the Sheikah Slate at his belt. Tasseren watched him quietly for a moment, but went on as Link caught him staring, clearing his throat and looking toward the field again. He made a good show of pretending not to notice anything. 

“When the dust had settled, my grandfather came back to the stable, to try to put things back together,” he said, looking around the stable as if he were seeing it now in flames. “Took him a few years, but he managed to get it back up and running. The other stables around Hyrule did the same, and the system is almost back like it used to be, now.

“That’s not my point, though,” he said, looking at Link again. “This stable has been in my family for generations. My grandfather passed it to my father, and he passed it to me and my brother. We basically grew up here, had done work around this place in practically everything. My brother learned the area, and I learned the management side of things. When the time came, we thought we knew everything about this place...and we very nearly did.”

He stepped out of the stable’s shade, waving for Link to follow him. Reluctantly, he did, eyes briefly looking the other way, where Kakariko still waited. Tasseren walked quickly around the side of the stable, to where they kept the horses tied, and Link hurried to follow him.

“My father kept one thing from us, when we were kids,” he said as they walked, looking back at Link. “She’d been here our whole lives and we never thought about it. Not until he told us the whole story, when he gave us the stable. ‘Keep her safe,’ he said, ‘She’s waiting for him, and we gotta keep her safe.’ I thought he had finally lost it, in his age...but my brother and I agreed, to humor him. We never expected anyone to actually show up, though...”

He stopped suddenly, holding up a hand for Link to wait as he went further around the side of the building. Link stopped, a strange feeling in his chest as he looked around, kicking at the grass at his feet. He didn’t know what to think of the stable owner’s words, and he couldn’t get his mind off of the rolling field now in view. 

He didn’t remember this place. Not fully, anyway. There were flashes, as there were everywhere, and on some level he could connect the broken images of that terrible day to this field, but he refused to at the moment. He couldn’t afford to confront his past—not this piece of it, anyway—right now. He had to focus, keep his attention centered on what had to be done by sundown today—get to Kakariko, speak to Impa, formulate some kind of plan. Then he could rest, then he could try to sort out his foggy thoughts.

There were children staring at him. He tried to ignore them, leaning on the back of the stable wall and kicking at a pebble. They were whispering by the horses’ stall, voices low but nonetheless present. He turned to look at them and they ran, stumbling over each other as they went around to the front of the building, giggling the whole way. 

Link shook his head, trying to disregard them as he had the others (he hadn’t, but it was worth a shot), turning his eyes back to the field. A few seconds later, Tasseren reappeared, peering around the side of the stable with a harried expression. 

“Alright, come on then,” he said, waving Link forward. 

He followed after him, eyes on his feet and strange feeling still heavy in his chest. Try as he might to shirk the old familiar feeling of numbness, he couldn’t. Over a full century after the burden was thrown at him, and still he struggled to deal with the weight of it all. It wasn’t that he blamed these people...although it was stranger now, to have eyes on him with expectations he couldn’t fully recall. Some Hero he was, running around with nothing but found weapons and stolen time. He failed them, and still they looked at him like—

“Here, kid.”

He looked up quickly, trying once again to get his mind back to the current moment. Tasseren, who still looked as gruff and disinterested as he had when he first saw Link, was frowning at him as he lead a horse out from around the other side of the stable. 

Link stared for several seconds. It felt like he was in free fall—like the ground had fallen out from underneath him somehow, and the only thing he could grab onto was this auburn horse—pulling away from Tasseren and nuzzling up to him excitedly. His hands found the reins what felt like of their own accord, and all he really could bring himself to do was hold her steady, and just...stare. 

Then a memory hit.

******

He hit the ground hard, rolling quickly to the side to avoid the hooves very much content to trample him to death. Thankfully, the horse seemed much happier to simply run off after kicking him, hopping the short fence of the ranch. The last thing anyone saw of the horse was its dark tail, whipping as it disappeared into the tree line. Vaguely, he heard the shout of the ranch owner, and heard him fumbling with the gate before running after the horse. 

Head pounding, ribs no doubt bruised, Link laid very still on the ground for a few seconds, staring up at the sky as he tried to catch his breath. Blinking away the daze, he rolled over and  pushed himself to his feet with shaking hands. With effort he managed to stumble his way out of the enclosure and to one of the little buildings near the front of the ranch. It was shadier there, and...well, he was less likely to get caught if he could manage to limp his way out of the open ranch enclosure. 

One hand on his side, the other on the wood of the ranch’s storage building (trying to keep himself on his feet), he slowly made his way out of the sunlight and into the shade. It was tough work, but he managed somehow, as he always did. By the time the ranch owner had returned, skittish horse in hand as he shouted Link’s name, he had crammed himself into the small space between the storage room and the main barn. It was a few feet across and stretched back far enough that he could crawl in and be out of reach. It was also covered over by the roofs of the two buildings—completely inaccessible to anyone bigger than he was. 

Considering Link was quite small for his age, the portly ranch owner had no chance of reaching him here, even if he did sort out exactly where he had run off to. And he had never found this hiding place. 

“Link!” the owner called again, voice rough and angry. “Always running off...Link! That’s the third time this week!”

He ignored the voice, trying to get air into his tired lungs, hands shaking where they rested awkwardly on his legs. There was dirt all over him, everything hurt, and he could feel a cut bleeding from where his head had hit the ground. His ears were ringing, and he was certain now that his ribs were bruised—at least. He had no plan of coming out of his hiding place, not until dark, no matter what the ranch owner said, or how long it took for him to give up. 

Enough, he decided, was enough. 

How long had he been here? Well, today, he had been here since the sun rose. In general, he had been stuck at this ranch for almost a year now, doing whatever the ranch owner wanted him to. Stupid things—cleaning, and feeding the horses, and making sure the monsters kept away from the fence around the perimeter. Even fighting the monsters was stupid, because he wasn’t allowed to have a real weapon. All he had was a pitchfork to wave at them. He couldn’t do anything but shoo them away until they inevitably returned, eying the horses and the apple trees with greedy snorts. 

But of all the foolish things he had to do, wrangling the horses was his least favorite. 

He couldn’t understand it. Most animals he could get along with just fine, but these horses seemed set to kill him. Only the wild horses—the ones lurking around the edge of the ranch, the ones he snuck apples to when the ranch owner wasn’t paying attention—only  _ they  _ really liked him. These pomp and proper royal horses...they didn’t trust him in the slightest. And they showed it often, to his great displeasure. He had been thrown off more times than he could count, and that finicky jumper that had just hopped the fence wasn’t the first of the many royal horses to flee the ranch rather than let Link anywhere near it. One had run all the way back to Castle Town’s stables after throwing him off. 

There was a heavy sound coming closer, almost like—footsteps approaching his hiding place. Link covered his mouth, trying to be as quiet as he could despite how labored his breathing was. A few seconds passed, and the footsteps slowed to a stop, very close to where he was. There was a moment of absolute silence. 

And then the auburn nose of a horse appeared in the space between the buildings, sniffing in his general direction. 

Link sighed in relief, dropping his hand from his mouth and scooting painfully closer to the end of the space, wincing at the soreness settling into his muscles. When he reached the edge of the barn’s side, he pulled himself to his feet, holding a hand out for her to smell as he leaned on the wall. Realizing she had found him, she gave a quiet sort of whinny and tried her very hardest to reach him fully. 

Shaking his head at the silly horse, Link wormed his way out from between the buildings and came to stand in front of her. She nuzzled up to him immediately, though she stood much taller than he did, being full grown. He could hardly reach the top of her back, unless he was standing on tiptoe. But she had apparently become so accustomed to his company that she knew quite well where he was, and had never even come close to stepping on him (the same could  _ not  _ be said for the other horses).

She was by far the strangest horse Link had ever taken care of. The ranch did not care for her, but she didn’t seem entirely wild either, didn’t run with the rest of the groups roaming Hyrule Field. She had no owner, as far as he could tell, but she was saddled and bridled like those who did, though he had never seen anything like her outfitting on any of the other horses. But the oddest thing of all...was that she only ever seemed to come to Link. She never appeared when the ranch owner was around, never tried to find him—just Link. No, she came and went as she pleased, picking his pockets for food and poking her nose in his business when he least expected her. 

And finding him when he ran off. That was her specialty. 

Hopeful for a treat for her find, she sniffed around his pockets, huffing in his face when she found nothing. 

_ “Sorry,”  _ he signed loosely, without much thought.  _ “I owe you one.” _

She nickered in what seemed like a response, but she didn’t leave, apparently content to let him pick the dead grass from her mane for a few minutes. The ranch had gone quiet again, and Link wondered if the owner had gone to search for him in Mabe Village. It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. He’d come back hours from now, all in a fuss, and by that time, Link would have fed the horses, swept up, and wandered off for the night. They would see each other again in the morning, and he would shout at Link for a few minutes before sighing and telling him to get to work. 

Another letter would be sent to his father. 

_ “He’s going to be angry, this time,”  _ Link signed to the horse, even though he knew such things were useless.  _ “Like he is every time...” _

Signing to a horse was no good use of his time, but he had no one else to talk to anyway. The ranch owner was the only other Hylian around, and he couldn’t understand more than a few of the gestures Link used. Mabe Village was no better, except the one woman who had moved from Hateno. She was nice...and she was the only one for miles who could read what Link was saying. She was also the only one who tried...

Shaking his head, Link peered around the corner of the barn, trying to see if the ranch owner was truly gone. Satisfied at the deep seated silence that had fallen over the ranch, Link emerged slowly from his hiding place, with the horse following after him, hovering a few feet back. Normally he would shoo her away by now, but...well, he didn’t mind the company. Besides, any horse that  _ wouldn’t  _ kick him in the chest the moment he got too close...that was about the closest thing to a friend he had, here...He had a friend. Somewhere. Just not here. 

Hylians didn’t like him very much, he had found. They all just stared, stared at this silent, scrawny boy wandering around the ranch trying to wrangle horses. They stared on the rare occasion his father showed up, royal guard outfit too gleaming compared to the dirty mess that was his son. Stared and stared, and never said a word. Not to him, anyway. 

At least this strange horse enjoyed his company. 

She followed behind him as he crossed the ranch, surprisingly quiet for a full grown horse. It almost seemed she knew they were sneaking around for a reason. The ranch wasn’t too large, and their destination was just around the corner, growing in between a section of fence and the ranch owner’s cabin. There were several apple trees around the ranch, but this one was closest, and the most hidden. As long as the owner wasn’t near his cabin, they could get in and out without a problem. 

Link held up a hand, and she stopped right away, watching him as he crept under the cabin windows toward the tree. Wincing at the ache in his ribs, he paused halfway to the tree, leaning against the wall and glancing back. She had inched a few feet closer, sniffing at the grass and watching him. He smirked and kept going. Reaching the tree, he pulled a few apples from the branches he could reach and ran back. 

The strange horse seemed far happier with her reward in sight, nickering and shifting around excitedly. Link laughed, giving her an apple quickly and smoothing her mane where he could reach it. The other apples were soon gone as well, but she lingered, hovering around Link as he wandered back toward his hiding place. 

Then in the distance, he heard the sound of approaching hooves—fast. Link froze, turning quickly toward the road out of the ranch, smile slipping from his face. It was too loud to have been only one visitor—this was several people on horseback, coming from the north as far as he could tell. There was only one type of visitor that came from the north. 

Link turned quickly, grabbing the reins of the horse’s bridle and pulling her along behind him. She followed at a slow trot, surprisingly willing to have a nervous child drag her along as he practically ran to the other side of the ranch. They reached the back side of the barn just as the first pair of horses came to the entrance of the ranch, pulling to a sudden stop as their riders dismounted. Link pulled the horse further behind the barn, holding the reins and hiding a bit behind her leg as footsteps came closer. 

“This place seems deserted,” a voice said, one Link did not recognize. “I don’t see anyone nearby.”

“Check the enclosure,” another ordered—one that Link  _ did  _ recognize. “The owner should be around somewhere...”

A single set of footsteps came closer, and Link backed away as silently as he could, nudging the horse to do the same. She followed, and Link wondered once again why she listened to him so easily. But his thoughts were cut short. 

“Link?” the same voice called, and Link confirmed without a doubt that it was his father calling for him. 

He backed further away from the main road through the ranch, pushing himself flush against the horse. She lowered her head, sniffing at him curiously, but he didn’t move. His father called for him again, but he stayed where he was, holding tighter to the horse and trying to be silent. 

The footsteps returned. “There’s no one in the enclosure, but the owner’s coming back from Mabe now.”

“Where is he, then?”

“Right here, Captain,” the owner called, panting slightly as he must have come up to them in a hurry. “I’m sorry for not being here when you arrived—”

“Where is Link?”

“Well, that’s the problem—”

“He’s run off again,” his father said flatly, sighing. “What happened?”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know. He was bringing one of the horses back to the barn, I was with another, and I heard a sound and suddenly the horse was off and running! By the time I found the horse and brought it back, he had disappeared.”

“He wouldn’t run off for nothing. Something must have gone wrong,” his father said quietly, and Link could almost picture the frown set deep into his eyes. “Did you search the ranch?”

“Of course, but it’s been some time, he could have gone anywhere.”

“He wouldn’t go far...” he trailed off, and Link could hear him coming closer. His hands tightened around the reins. “Link! You can come out—you’re not in trouble...”

He didn’t move. The horse sniffed at him again, and he put a hand to her leg, backing her up another step. She did as he directed, shaking her head and nudging at his shoulder. It was pointless to hide now, he knew they would find him, but—

“Something must have happened, he wouldn’t just flee,” his father mused. “Link! He’s likely hiding from us...”

“I’ll check the other side of the ranch,” the other guard said. 

A few seconds passed in relative silence, footsteps slowly drawing nearer to him. Link huddled closer to the horse, unsure why he was even hiding now...but he didn’t want to go out there. He knew that without doubt. 

“Really now,” the owner grumbled after a pause. “I checked everywhere, if he were here, I would have found him.”

Link heard his father sigh heavily. He could imagine him shaking his head at the old ranch owner, but didn’t get the chance to before a figure appeared at the end of the space, hidden almost entirely in shadow, pausing to stare at him. Even in the strangeness of the light, he could tell it was his father—the shape of the royal guard cap, the sword strapped to his side, the way he stood, tall and proud (and intimidating). Link didn’t move; he was caught.

“You can’t have looked that hard,” his father said, glancing back toward the ranch, where the owner no doubt still waited. “He’s right here.”

“What?” the owner sputtered, appearing a second later behind him. “And he’s got a—Link, what on earth are you  _ doing?” _

He didn’t move, only held tighter to her reins and stared at them, stuck. The owner shook his head, brushing past his father and coming into the thin little alley between buildings. 

“Come on, put her back where you found her now,” he said, waving for Link to let go of the reins. 

But Link sprang back into action and hook his head, backing away from the man. The horse followed.

“No, come along,” he sighed. “You can’t just take them out whenever you please.”

_ “I didn’t take her out,”  _ Link signed quickly, shaking his head and backing away another step. 

“He says he didn’t take her out,” his father said, sounding almost amused by the idea. 

“Didn’t—then where did you get her?” the owner asked incredulously. 

“Are you saddling wild horses now, son?” his father pitched in, chuckling. 

The owner, however, was not at all amused. He crossed his arms and barked, “Or are you just letting my horses escape  _ constantly _ now?”

Link shook his head at them both, hands moving fast.  _ “She found me, she isn’t wild, and she isn’t yours.” _

Silence reigned, and they stared at each other, ranch owner angry, and Link simply afraid. The owner waited a few seconds before turning to his father, arms crossed. 

“Well?” he said, anger still present in his voice. “What did he say?”

Link’s father hardly seemed to hear him. He stood frozen at the end of the building, expression inscrutable as he remained in shadow. After a pause he stepped closer, and Link could see a strange mix of emotions in his bright eyes, the most recognizable of which was something close to anger. 

“What do you mean she found you?” he asked, voice low. 

Link stared at him, lost for a moment, and it felt like the world had somehow stopped its spinning, came screeching to a halt as tension rose. His mouth hung open, but his hands were as stalled as his thoughts. What had he done? He didn’t do anything—

“Link,” his father said, insistent, snapping his attention back to him. “What do you  _ mean _ she found you? Whose horse is this?”

The owner came a step closer and Link unfroze, holding tighter to the reins. He shook his head, backing away again. But no words came to mind. 

“Did you steal this horse?” the owner asked, squinting at her gear with suspicion. “I’ve never seen this horse before, Captain...”

“Where could he have gotten her from, then? Certainly not the village if you were just there—”

_ “I didn’t steal her!”  _ Link signed frantically, shaking his head adamantly.  _ “I didn’t—” _

“Then where did she come from?” his father questioned, coming closer again, shaking his head. 

_ “I don’t know, she just shows up—” _

“Shows up?” his father was exasperated, he could tell. “Link, don’t lie. Where did you get this horse?”

_ “I didn’t get her, she just finds me—” _

“And where did she find you, then? She likely ran from someone, they could be looking for her as we speak.”

He only shook his head. He couldn’t seem to feel his legs anymore; all he could do was stare up at his father and shake his head. What did he do? He didn’t steal her, he was telling the truth. He tried to shoo her away but she never left, she just stayed. And he knew she didn’t belong to any of the villagers, because their horses all wore the same stable-made saddles and bridles. This horse did not. She didn’t belong to the royal family for the same reason—she did not wear the royal gear. But his father was staring down at him as if he really had crept into someone else’s stable and stolen away with this horse, like he had done something terrible.

Why did he always look at him like that?

“Let go of that horse,” he ordered. 

Link shook his head, holding tighter to the reins and moving closer to her. She moved up a step, snuffling at his shirt and shifting her weight. Tension brewed thickly in the air as they stared at each other, but neither Link nor his father moved for several seconds. 

“Link, I said let her go, now,” his father said, no longer willing to bargain, it seemed. “She isn’t yours, she must belong to someone, look at her gear.”

He didn’t, he couldn’t—he could only stare at his father, very near tears because he didn’t understand what he had done  _ wrong.  _ He knew he wasn’t supposed to run, and he wasn’t supposed to hide from the ranch owner, but—but he didn’t steal this horse. She found  _ him— _ he was always mad for something, always something he did wrong—

His father sighed and came up to them, shaking his head as he reached over and started to pull Link away, trying to get him to let go of the reins. But Link wouldn’t let go. He pulled back, refusing to release his hold on the horse, who didn’t seem to mind his tight grip in the slightest (though she seemed to be growing more agitated by the second, shifting her weight and watching the encounter). 

“Let  _ go,  _ Link,” his father said, eyes lit up with anger for certain now as he fought to pull the reins from Link’s hands. “This is foolish behavior.”

Finally, he wrenched the reins away from him, but kept his hold on Link’s arm, looking furious as he pulled him away. Link tried to squirm out of his grip to no avail, crying now as he struggled to get away, get—well, get back to the horse, though he didn’t know why. He hardly noticed the pain from his fall anymore, he only cared about getting out of this trap he’d found himself in, but he couldn’t get away. His father sighed, and began to say something—

He cut off before getting even a word out, as the horse suddenly squealed very loudly, bucking up onto her back legs and kicking in the air, slamming her hooves back down with force. The ranch owner stumbled backward, and Link’s father dropped his arm in surprise, falling back a step as well without thought. Link lost his footing at the sudden drop, hitting the ground and fully expecting to be trampled by the spooked horse. 

But she only huffed, seemingly satisfied at their retreat as she settled almost immediately, sauntering carefully over to Link and blocking him from their access. She sniffed at his head for a moment, and finding him apparently fine, fixed half her gaze on the two men now standing at the end of the alley, as if daring them to come closer. 

They didn’t. 

Link sniffled, rubbing at his eyes before getting shakily back to his feet. He grabbed her reins again and straightened out the saddle where it had been jostled by her apparent defense of him. 

_ “Sorry,”  _ he signed, still holding the reins in his other hand even as he repeated it over and over (though he didn’t know who exactly he was apologizing to).  _ “I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” _

“Look at the symbol...” the owner’s tone had largely shifted, and he trailed off strangely. “She’s...”

Link tuned them out, hiding his face in her leg and holding tightly to the reins. She shuffled closer to him, sniffing at his head again like she expected some kind of injury. Once more finding nothing, she nickered and turned her attention back to the two men. 

“He said she  _ found _ him...” the owner went on quietly, staring wide eyed. “If he’s telling the truth, then—”

“Don’t,” Link’s father cut him off roughly. “Don’t you dare.”

“But if—”

“I know what it means!” he shouted suddenly. 

Link flinched, whimpering a little. The horse shuffled her feet again, making a low noise in her throat and shifting her weight as she backed Link away from the two at the end of the alley. He let her for a few steps before he realized what she was doing, and he stopped her, but he didn’t come out from where she had hidden him from view. He didn’t have the energy to wonder at her strange behavior anymore. He just accepted it. 

His only defender was a strange horse that followed him around. It wasn’t exactly the most normal situation, but he didn’t care. At least he had someone on his side...

“Link, come out from there,” his father said, voice much lower than before. 

He was trying to make up for shouting, Link could tell. But he had said before he wasn’t in trouble, and then he had been, for...some reason. Link shook his head, even though he knew they couldn’t see him do it. Not with this horse blocking him completely from their view, staring them down. He didn’t want to come out from behind her strange little barrier of protection.

“It’s okay,” his father went on, pausing with a heaviness to his voice. Link could hear him step closer. “No one’s going to take her from you...she’s...yours.”

She huffed at that, like she was satisfied, but she continued to eye his father warily. Link peered out from behind her leg, tear streaks carving paths down his dirty face. The pain from being kicked before was slowly creeping up on him again as he tried to control his jagged breathing. He still had a hand tangled up in the reins, but it was loose, confusion clear in his eyes as he stared up at his father. 

“Come along,” he said quietly, waving for him to come out. “We’re going home, come on.”

Link stared at him, mouth hanging open, but the owner of the ranch beat him to questioning it. 

“You’re—” the owner fumbled. “But you—he’s just—”

“I  _ said,”  _ his father cut him off, turning briefly to look at him. “We are going  _ home.  _ He is  _ my  _ son, and it is  _ his  _ fate. Not yours.”

“Sir, we...” the other royal guard had appeared a ways back, fiddling with the sword at his side with a nervous sort of expression, even as his eyes were caught on the insignia of the horse’s saddle. “We’ll have to report to the King that—”

“He’s  _ not even ten,”  _ his father said abruptly, and his voice seemed to fracture somewhere. “Do what you must, but I’m taking him home. There will—there will be a time, but that time is  _ not  _ now...”

Link sniffled, still clinging to the horse’s leg nervously as they spoke, unsure what they were saying, or why they all looked at him so strangely now. He didn’t understand the...awe of the ranch owner and the other guard, or the sadness in his father’s eyes. What did they have to tell the King? Talking about symbols on her saddle...it was all so confusing. They continued to look oddly at him for a few seconds, as if deciding what to do.

“I’ll...head back to Castle Town,” the other guard said, retreating quickly from the alley. “I’ll speak to the King, Captain.”

The ranch owner still stared at the horse, but the guard’s comment seemed to jog him, and he jumped slightly. Looking almost ashamed, he turned away as well, heading for the cabin at the opposite side of the road. He glanced back once, at the flash of the insignia on the saddle, a strange look in his eyes. With a shake of his head, he disappeared into his home, and hooves kicked up in the distance as the guard left in a hurry. It was only Link, his father, and the horse in the alley, now, watching each other quietly. 

“Come out from behind there,” his father said again, waving him forward. 

Link hesitated, eying his father carefully before slowly releasing the horse’s reins and coming around. His hands shook as he pulled at his shirt, wiped at his eyes and came to stand in front of his father. He tried to calm down, but his ribs were still throbbing from being kicked earlier, and he couldn’t seem to stop crying. 

“I’m not angry with you,” his father said, kneeling down so their eyes were level. “I want you to understand that, alright?”

Link nodded, not meeting his eyes. He pulled at his shirt again, kicking at a pebble on the ground. 

“Link.”

He looked up for a moment before looking at the ground again. His father sighed. 

“When your mother named you, I hoped she was wrong,” he said quietly. “I begged her to choose another name, but she insisted. She knew. I don’t know how, but she knew.”

Link looked up at him, without a clue what he was talking about. They never talked about his mother. It was an unspoken rule. But here was his father, breaking that rule to tell him a very confusing story. 

“All these prophecies and...” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I didn’t want it to be true, but...there’s nothing any of us can do about it...”

_ “What are you talking about?” _ Link signed slowly, dread creeping up on him from his father’s strange words. 

His father stared at his hands for a moment before meeting his eyes. He looked very sad suddenly. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Pushing himself back to his feet, he turned to look toward the ranch. Link watched him, his words still turning over in his mind, but none of it made sense. The entire day was a whirlwind of confusing encounters and nervousness, and he didn’t know why his father’s mood had turned so quickly. Talking about his mother, and his name...all because this strange horse had found Link? He was very confused...

“It is a conversation for another time,” his father said, no longer meeting his eyes. “When you are older, it will...it will make sense. For now, just...just know you haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m not angry with you. It was just a misunderstanding, earlier. She really is yours, no one else’s. She wouldn’t have found you if she weren’t meant for you.”

_ “She’s...mine?” _

His father nodded. “She’s a good, strong horse Link. It’s your responsibility to take care of her, and she’ll take care of you...a good horse needs a good place to stay,” he went on, glancing at the horse again and perhaps trying to change the subject. “Why don’t we get her back to Hateno for a little while? Away from the ranch and all this nonsense...”

Link stayed where he was, staring up at him with a flutter of something like hope in his chest. “Home?” he mumbled quietly, voice hoarse from disuse and his crying. 

His father hesitated, watching him for a few seconds and looking sad again. But after a pause, he nodded. “Yes, we’re going home.”

******

“Hey, kid.”

Link jolted, locking eyes with Tasseren and jumping as reality fell back into place. The wind blew colder as the sun sank behind the mountains. There was the sound of the other animals grazing nearby, the children running around at the front of the stable, the churning of the passing river water. His hands were still tight on the reins, not enough to lead her anywhere, but enough to hold her in place. She was apparently too excited by his presence to care, shifting her weight and sniffing at him, nickering happily and nuzzling up to him.

“You alright?” Tasseren asked, watching him with well-meaning concern. 

Link had no idea how to reply, looking away and pulling the horse closer to him. He still hadn’t found ground yet, still felt like he was floating somewhere between the memory and reality, and he could feel the exhaustion setting in. It was stronger than before, stronger than the first memory and compounding with all the other things he had done (and needed to do, those always weighed heavily). He would need to...go soon.

“Her name is Epona,” Tasseren said, still a carefulness to his tone. “According to legend, anyway...my grandfather found her wandering the field after the battle, looking for...well, looking for you. He brought her back here thinking that everything was over, and so she had no one to take care of her...without a Hero to guide, she was just...waiting. So the stable took her in.

“People came looking for her once in a while, wondering what happened, wanting to buy and sell her off. After a while of that nonsense, my grandfather kept her hidden, and people forgot he had her. It was safer that way. When he gave the stable to my father, he told him to keep her safe, and when my father gave us the stable, he passed the message along.

“Like I said, we didn’t expect anyone to show up,” he said sharply, and Link met his gaze again. But he didn’t look angry, only intrigued. “My grandfather told the story of the last battle, and the fall of the Hero so many times...well, we thought you were gone...”

He trailed off in a way that Link knew meant he wanted some kind of explanation, some story of events. But Link didn’t have that story...he had been awake less than three days, had only just remembered this horse (and his father) and Revali beforehand. He had that—that  _ nightmare  _ of a memory of the day he had...no, he didn’t want to think about that right now. He  _ couldn’t  _ think about that right now. 

Tasseren must have recognized this on some level, as he nodded a little to himself. “Well, she’s fed and kept the same as she has been for as long as I can remember,” he said, almost proud. “Normally we’d charge a fee for keeping a horse that long, but...I’m not going to do that. The other stables will charge you for boarding her, but she’s been here my whole life, and never hurt a fly. I can’t charge you on good conscience.”

_ “Thank you,”  _ he signed quickly, snapping back to the conversation, and the strange relief in his chest at regaining another fraction of his past.  _ “For everything, thank you...” _

Tasseren stared for a moment, expression guarded. “Don’t mention it,” he finally grumbled, looking around. “You ever need a place to stay, find a stable. They see you with her, and they won’t turn you away.”

Link nodded, trying to ground himself again with the information, remember why he was here and where he still needed to go. The sensation of floating was still too powerful, but it got a little better with instruction, with a nudge in the proper direction of his task. 

He caught sight of the tan rocks of Kakariko and his thoughts reorganized a touch. The sun was setting, but not yet gone. If he hurried, he might make it in time before the day ended, at least to find a place to stay for the night.

_ “I have to...”  _ he hesitated, trying to think of how to say all that he had to do. 

Tasseren waited a moment before shaking his head, almost smirking. “Just go, kid.”

_ “Thank you.” _

He only nodded, watching quietly as Link mounted and hurried Epona away. Holding tightly to the reins, with the same feeling of  _ rightness  _ from before quickly waning under the force of an exhaustion too strong for him to combat for long, Link urged Epona into a gallop. Sights set, slate humming at his side, and dust kicking up behind him, he tried to keep a level head as he took the turn of the path toward Kakariko. 

Everyone at the stable paused as the pair sped past, staring at the flash of the insignia on her saddle, and the slate on his belt, connecting long dormant thoughts to myths and old stories. Whispers kicked up, questions and wonder and retelling of stories. The stable came abuzz with life, and the effect spread fast. 

Listening ears were everywhere, some running off right away to tell relatives—grandparents tucked away in cottages still repeating the same stories, would be soldiers patrolling the monster-plagued roads, merchants selling wares, children running through fields, and wolves in sheep’s clothing—they all heard the news, looking to the distance with bated breath. 

Hyrule had its Hero back. A boy long thought dead sprung back into the world out of nowhere, raising towers and turning shrines in his wake. 

Old demons rose to meet him. And rose with earnest. 


	5. Hestu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back on their bullshit? 
> 
> Me, it's me.
> 
> Oh my god I am sorry for the delay.
> 
> I like taking my time with these, and making them uh...long as hell. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for putting up with my nonsense, and for reading! It means the world. Enjoy!

_Why...can’t I...remember..._

_Help...please..._

_Where...did you go..._

_Can’t...remember..._

_Something is...wrong..._

_Where are you?_

Epona came to a slow halt, and Link lifted his head from where it had come to slump in their slow ride. Once they were out of sight of the stable, he had slowed her down to a quiet walk, and his thoughts had escaped him just as quickly. He was lucky to keep any sort of grip on the reins at all, with how exhausted he was. But Epona seemed to know where to go, and he was too...tired to try to take control for himself. So he let her take the path, holding the reins loosely in his hands and falling forward onto her neck.

It was only as she stopped at a curve of the path that he was able to rouse himself enough to sit properly in the saddle, looking blearily around the fast darkening path. The sun had slipped below the horizon only moments ago, but the sky was rapidly turning an inky black. There were a few lanterns lighting the sign posts, and some along the bridges, but besides that, it was almost completely dark now.

He found he didn’t like that very much. Urging Epona forward again, Link tried to stay awake for a little longer.

The mountains encroached on the path the closer to Kakariko it went, until there was less than a ten feet width from one side of the path to the other. Wind blew lazily along, not nearly enough to get rid of the stifling atmosphere of the path, though. Not enough to blow away this feeling of emptiness that had somehow taken hold of his thoughts.

He didn’t like these memories...he didn’t like the vast nothingness they left him with, all the blanks he couldn’t fill. It was like being offered a scrap of bread when he was starving—the little he had been given was nowhere near enough to make things feel right again. And for the life of him, he could not drag any more of his memories from the fog, no matter how hard he tried.

Take Epona for example. He could now remember the day he had first gotten her. But he could not remember what had happened before, or what had happened after. He couldn’t remember going home with his father, or waking up the morning of that day, or anything more about the people in the memory than the little glimpses he had caught therein. His father was a confusing set of half remembered feelings, none of which seemed to make much sense. He had the lingering feeling of other memories, the sense of the strain of their relationship, but no context to pin it down with, except what he could remember from one encounter they had when he was very young. He had no idea what had happened to his father, or why their relationship was so confused. All these vague notions the memory of Epona had given him were of no help.

And Revali, who slipped his mind too easily, leaving him with a crushing amount of guilt. Or the princess, Zelda, who was still silent wherever she was. Or Impa, a name which he knew he ought to remember, but could not. Or any number of other phantoms in his thoughts that could not form shape or name. They were all still lost to him, still floating around in the ether while he stumbled his way toward his next required task.

He was very tired.

Epona stopped again, and Link roused himself for another moment. He had no idea why she had stopped, leaning toward a turn of the path and sniffing at the grass. Sighing, he dropped the reins and dismounted, content to take her hints as they came and check the area.

The path shot off into two directions. One branch clearly lead toward Kakariko, candlelit lanterns occasionally flickering in the wind, and the sounds of village life drifting over. The other branch lead to a little alcove of sorts, the remains of a camp clustered around a tree. It was likely a monster camp at one point, but the beasts seemed to have deserted it, leaving their stubby watchtower and scorched ground where a fire had once been.

Epona sniffed at the grass suspiciously before looking toward the camp, then at Link. He gave her a look, but only shook his head before following the turn of the path toward the camp.

Link approached it slowly, wary of stragglers who could attack. Epona wandered after him, sniffing at the ground and watching him. There was no one in the camp, only the light breeze and a few chirping birds in the trees. Looking around once more, Link wondered why Epona had stopped here. He got the sense she did so for a reason...but there was nothing here, and they should keep moving. The sun was nearly set—time was short, he had to—

There was a huff behind him, and he jolted as Epona pushed at his back, nudging him forward. He stumbled forward a step, reaching back on instinct to calm her, but she only nickered and nudged at him once more. What was she trying to tell him?

Then there was a rustle in the bushes nearby.

Link froze, tired eyes searching the brush quickly, but finding nothing—no flash of color of a bokoblin, waiting to strike, no foolish Hylian hiding and watching him—nothing. Pushing Epona back a step, he drew the sword on his back and faced the camp, moving silently and slipping into a rhythm that thankfully required very little thought. His thoughts may have been thousands of miles away, his sense of self so removed it was almost alarming, but he could never forget how to hold a sword, or search a camp for monsters. That was (perhaps unfortunately) permanently ingrained in him.

The alcove was too small for anything hiding here to be truly dangerous, but his paranoia was too heightened for him to settle now. His eyes followed the track of the scuffed dirt into the brush, hand tight on the sword, mind blank, ears ringing. Epona shuffled a step closer, shaking her head.

Another rustle came from the right. Link turned, tightening his grip on the sword and raising the shield, ready for—

Well, anything but that.

In the brush, poorly hidden beneath one of the smallest trees in the little clearing, was...well, it looked like a tree. A short, stubby, fat tree...that was moving, bouncing back and forth on its two little feet. And it had a face. And little wooden hands covering that face, trembling and mumbling something or other in a very high pitched voice.

Link put his sword away, glancing once toward Epona (who was sniffing at an apple tree and completely unconcerned with whatever was happening at the other end of the clearing) before looking again at the strange tree creature. It was still...well, he could hardly call it hiding from him, but it was trying its best. He looked around for any other threats, but there was nothing (besides the rapidly setting sun, and the skeletal monsters it would bring). Restraining a sigh, Link sheathed his sword and approached the creature slowly, unsure what else to do (Epona was no help, she was far too interested in trying to get an apple from the tree—still, if she wasn’t reacting, there likely wasn’t any danger).

As he got too close, the creature jumped and hid its face even more, shouting in a high pitched, trembling voice, “Monsters! Nonono, not good—have to get back before Grandpa finds out...”

Link cleared his throat. The creature froze, peering out from between its hands at him.

“Shalaka!” it shouted in surprise, uncovering its woody face to stare unabashedly at him with beady little eyes poking out from behind a leafy mask. “You! You can see me?!”

Link nodded.

The creature gave a hoot of joy, bouncing happily between its feet and singing a nonsense song. “It’s been one hundred years since anyone could see me!” it shouted, still dancing happily.

Epona whinnied, finally managing to get the treat she wanted from the tree, crunching on an apple and watching their interaction keenly. Link glanced back at her, and this caught the attention of the creature, who looked over at her before freezing with an almost comical gasp.

“Shoko...you have Epona! That means...” it hummed curiously. “Wait! Shala-kala! I remember! You are Mr. Hero!”

With a surprising amount of speed for a tree creature with stumpy legs, it came quickly out of the brush, leaning over him and dancing happily as it sang its song again. Link watched it warily, likely more surprised than he should have been to find a somehow sentient tree that believed itself to be invisible.

“Mr. Hero is back!” the creature sang, waving its hands excitedly. “You’ve been asleep for so loooong I was getting bored. Ooh! If Mr. Hero is here...yes! Mr. Hero can help!”

 _“Help?”_ he signed without a thought, then realized there was little chance this tree creature could understand him.

But the creature giggled, dancing between his feet again and vigorously nodding (to the point that a few leaves fell from the two branches growing from his head). “Yesssss,” he sang happily. “Mr. Hero can help Hestu! And then Hestu can help Mr. Hero! And then you can visit Grandpa! And get your special sword! And then—and then—”

He cut off abruptly, a thought seeming to strike him from nowhere. “Sorry, I got excited,” he said bashfully, shifting his weight and sounding downcast before brightening again. “But Mr. Hero can help!”

Coming out from the brush completely, the creature walked carefully over to the shabby monster tower in the corner. “Monsters took my maracas, and put them in there,” he said, pointing to the strange, skull like chest at the top of the tower. “I think they liked the color. It was still rude to take them, Hestu would be happy to share. But without my maracas I can’t do my magic...and I can’t climb the tower because I have short legs...shoko...which means I am stuck.

“But!” He sang happily, turning back to Link and shimmying again. “Mr. Hero is Hylian! Yes! And Mr. Hero can climb the monsters’ tower and get my maracas back! And all the seeds the korok children took too. They like to play pranks, but they’re good sports. If you find them, they’ll give you back the seeds, and then I can do my magic! Shakala—yes, this will work.”

Link stared blankly at the creature for several seconds before turning to look again at the chest on the tower. He really should have been used to this sort of strange thing, he thought, but he was not, and he didn’t blame his lack of memory on that. This tree creature—Hestu, he called himself—was strange, without a doubt.

But he needed help, and Link had no reason not to give it. Especially when the task required was so simple. Nodding to himself, Link climbed up the tower’s ladder quickly, forcing the treasure chest open and peering inside. Sure enough, a set of (very bright) red maracas were shoved inside, along with a loose rupee and a beetle. Ignoring the latter two abandoned items, Link pulled out the maracas and jumped down from the tower, glad it was such a short distance down.

Hestu gave a hoot for joy, dancing between his feet and making grabbing hands at the maracas. Smirking a little, Link gave them back, watching for a moment as Hestu danced around and sang his nonsense song again, despite the fact that the maracas made no sound. He seemed to realize this too after a moment, slowing to a stop and eyeing the maracas with something comically close to suspicion.

“Shoko...they _have_ taken all my korok seeds,” he said sadly before looking again at Link. “But that’s okay. The forest children like Mr. Hero—they will give you back the seeds if you ask.”

 _“Not you?”_ Link asked, somewhat curious.

Hestu shook his large head. “Forest children like to play pranks. Never on Mr. Hero, but always on Hestu. Don’t worry though, I will get them back,” he giggled. “I have a good plan. But Korok seeds first! Then Mr. Hero can help in my _ultimate_ prank.”

Looking around the little clearing, Hestu put away his maracas on his belt. “The children of the forest like to hide. Mr. Hero taught them the game, a looooooooooong time ago, and they’re small enough to fit most anywhere. But they don’t cheat! So you find them, and they give you a little reward of a seed! And if I can find them, then my maracas will work and everything will be fun again!”

Hestu broke into another seemingly nonsense song, dancing around and waving for Link to follow out of the clearing and back onto the path. He trudged along after the tree creature slowly, wondering what exactly he was planning. Still, Epona didn’t seem to be bothered by him, and so Link shrugged the strangeness off as best he could, content to follow along with it as long as he needed to.

“I know I heard someone here earlier, Mr. Hero,” Hestu said cheerily, wandering further down the path. “Ooh, it is probably Peeks...Peeks likes rabbits, and I saw one earlier when the monsters were running around with my maracas. I wonder if Peeks found the blue bunny...”

The strange creature rambled on as the path wound tighter into the mountains, occasionally breaking into song or dancing for a few seconds, all while filling Link in on what he felt were terribly important things. Most of these things ended up being little facts about various children of the forest. Apparently a large number of them were obsessed with the “blue bunnies,” while others spent their time coming up with elaborate tests for “when Mr. Hero woke up from his nap.”

Link listened passively, oddly at ease. There was something familiar about this creature, but not in the same soul-crushing, empty feeling way that there was something familiar about Zelda, or Revali. No, this was more like the familiarity of Epona—something deeper, something _older,_ something that just inherently made sense. All this talk about his “special sword” and “Mr. Hero” and still Link did not feel the discomfort he felt earlier when speaking to Tasseren. There was less heavy sadness, less of a burden to knowing vaguely who Hestu and the children of the forest were.

Besides...Hestu was funny.

“Shakala!” Hestu shouted suddenly (as if to prove the point). “Mr. Hero! Look, a puzzle!”

Link looked up where the creature pointed. Sure enough, there was a strange protrusion of rock on the mountain wall. Dark stone blocks with strange swirling patterns (in nearly matching sets) were very out of place on the light gray stone, and stuck out prominently. On the ground not too far away was a similar block, shining oddly in the setting sun.

Hestu danced back and forth on his feet. “Yes! This is a Korok puzzle! Someone is hiding nearby...ooh, you have to solve the puzzle to find them, Mr. Hero!”

Frowning, Link looked again at the strange block off to the side. It was quite large, and looked heavy. There was no way he would be able to lift it to the height needed to complete the puzzle—not with those formations ten feet off the ground. He wondered...pulling out the Sheikah Slate and fiddling with it for a moment, he pulled up the magnesis rune and ran it over the block.

It glowed a bright pink.

With a half a smile, Link activated the rune, maneuvering the block out of the grass and into the air. Hestu shouted something or other, but quickly broke into a happy dance when he realized what Link was doing. After some finagling, he managed to lodge it into its proper place, and the block spun before joining the rest of the formation.

“Shala-kala! You did it!”

In a puff of leaves and strange dust, a very tiny tree creature appeared in front of the puzzle. Like a smaller version of Hestu, the creature appeared to be made of wood, with tiny eyes more like slats and a wide carved smile poking out from a dark red leafy mask. It was holding a stick, which it waved around excitedly.

“You found me, you found me!” he shouted happily before looking up at Link. He gasped. “Mr. Hero! You’re awake! _And_ you found me! Wow, you really are busy.”

“It _is_ Peeks!” Hestu said from a few feet away, running over quickly and waving. “Did you find the bunny?”

“Oh, hi, Hestu,” Peeks said with a wave of his stick, looking slightly downcast. “The blue bunny ran away. But I found a puzzle! And it’s more fun to hide and see bunnies sometimes than to chase them. Bunnies don’t like Peeks very much,” he added sadly.

“Mr. Hero!” he shouted suddenly, getting his attention again. “You gotta visit Grandpa! He misses you a lot, and your sword is still sleeping. If you’re done with your nap, then maybe she is too!”

Tabling the confusion of _that_ statement for later, Link nodded seriously. _“I’ll visit soon.”_

Peeks giggled. “Your hands are still funny, Mr. Hero. I wish I still had enough fingers...” he trailed off, sounding almost sad again. “But being small is more fun, cause I can hide better. Oh, right! I gotta give you your prize!”

Shuffling around and digging through a tiny pouch at his side, Peeks gave a whoop of delight before running quickly up to Link, jumping up and down in excitement. But he stilled after a moment, looking up at him with something that was likely meant to be a very serious expression. The fact that his mask was fixed in a permanent smile (and the fact that he was still bouncing a little) did not help, making the little creature look funny more than anything, but Link brushed it off.

“Gimme your hand,” he demanded.

Link knelt down and held out his hand, smiling a little.

“You gotta promise to come see Grandpa,” Peeks said, still sounding forcefully serious. _“And_ you gotta tell me what the blue bunnies look like up close, cause they’re too scared of me. Mr. Hero is better than Peeks at sneaking, so you have to do it.”

Link nodded, wondering how he would keep the second promise. What was this blue bunny anyway? Oh well. He would know soon enough if he was going to find it.

“Ooh!” Peeks shouted, bringing his attention back to the moment. “And you gotta give Epona a carrot. Epona likes carrots a lot. Even more than apples!”

Epona nickered in something like agreement, and Link nodded, glancing back at the horse with amusement.

“You gotta promise, Mr. Hero,” Peeks said brightly, pointing at him and bouncing a little.

 _“I promise,”_ Link signed quickly, laughing a little as he held his hand out once more.

“Good!” Peeks said, nodding once.

He took Link’s hand (his hands felt like wood...he wasn’t sure why he was surprised) and dropped something carefully into his palm. Looking closely at it, it looked much like any other seed he had seen before. The only difference really was that it shone very brightly gold, and was quite small. It almost looked like metal.

 _“Thank you, Peeks,”_ Link signed with one hand.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Hero. I gotta go see Grandpa and tell him about the puzzle,” he said, looking down the path. “Don’t forget to find the bunny! And come get your sword and see Grandpa soon!”

Link nodded, and Peeks disappeared into another puff of leaves and light.

Hestu sighed. “Shoko, I need to see Grandpa too...Hestu has been gone for too long searching for the blue bunny...”

Link got back to his feet, walking over and offering the Korok seed to Hestu.

“For me?” the creature asked, sounding surprised. “But it’s your prize, Mr. Hero!”

Link shrugged. _“Borrow it. For your maracas.”_

Hestu looked stunned. “Reeeeally?”

Link nodded.

“Yay!” he sang, dancing around for a moment before pulling out his maracas again. “With my maracas back, I can do my magic, and help Mr. Hero! Shala-kala! Yesssss!”

Hestu took the seed from Link with careful hands, opening up one of the maracas and dropping it inside. It bounced around, making a surprisingly musical sound. Hestu gave another hoot for joy, shaking the maracas with vigor as he danced around. Link watched with a half a smile for a few moments, feeling oddly content.

After a long dance, Hestu froze suddenly with a gasp, looking quickly over at Link. “Shaka! I almost forgot!”

He ran quickly back to him, standing over him with a little smile. “I have a gift for Mr. Hero!” he said happily, digging through the bag at his side and carefully pulling something out.

“I’ve kept it safe, just like you said, Mr. Hero,” Hestu said proudly, placing the object carefully into his hands. “Not even a little dirty! And it still works, I promise...”

Link nodded vaguely, and Hestu went quiet, watching him. He  stared at the mask in his hands, a strange sensation poking at the back of his mind. He had seen this before, as he had seen many things before, seen _Hestu_ before, but it was this object that triggered it all. He was beginning to recognize this feeling for what it was, but the memory’s pull surprised him nevertheless.

It came regardless of his surprise. As they always did.

******

The Lost Woods were a very strange place. Heavy magic hung over them in a thick blanket of fog, and music seemed to dance on the wind no matter where you stepped. Koroks darted in and out of trees, and the occasional blupee flittered about, and sometimes there were other, more normal animals, but most of them here were far from _normal._ They appeared and disappeared at random, leading travelers astray with a high pitched laugh, and suddenly they would open their eyes at the entrance of the woods, the voices of children speaking a language they didn’t understand taunting them with giddy voices.

Some took it as a spiteful laugh. They were the ones who had no right stepping into the Woods in the first place, the ones who would crumble just by getting too close to the sword resting there. They would charge back into the forest with swords drawn, shouting curses no grown man would be happy to hear, taunting random trees and making great fools of themselves. This never ended well for them. The children of the forest may be children, but they are by no means fools, and they don’t take to mean behavior well. They would come much faster for those ill mannered travelers, diving into even the safest parts of the path and dragging them off, dropping them into the lake next time and shouting their own jeers (although theirs were always far kinder, even when they were angry...not that the travelers could understand them either way).

Most people weren’t like the mean spirited people, though. Most travelers just wanted a little glimpse of the sword. The humble ones knew they had little chance of pulling the sword, and only wanted to see it, perhaps offer a prayer to the goddess statue legend said waited at the base of the Great Deku Tree. On rare occasions, when the children of the forest were in good moods, sometimes they would guide people through the Woods, letting them get close enough to see the sword before taking them carefully away. The travelers would leave with looks of sheer wonder in their eyes, running back to the nearest stable or village and babbling endlessly about the entire experience.

That was where most people got their information on the Lost Woods, from those lucky few who the Koroks had taken pity on. Their stories, and the old legends, that was as close as most people could get to actually making it through the Lost Woods.

Unless you were Link, of course.

The good thing about the Lost Woods was...because no one else could get through it without help, all Link had to do to escape was dart into the trees and he would disappear without a trace. Whoever ran after him would be taken out in seconds by a swarm of Koroks, chastising them for even trying. After they dropped whoever it was at the entrance, they would always sniff Link out of his hiding place and play games, or make him do their trials over again just to test his wits. Or if things were really bad, they would drag him off to the Great Deku Tree for advice.

He tried not to think about that inevitable end now, though, as he sprinted into the thick of the Lost Woods. There was more than enough on his mind at the moment without having to worry about being scolded for running _again_ by the Great Deku Tree.

“Link!” he heard one of them shout, then a rustling of leaves. “Where did you...”

Their voice trailed off, and then the forest was filled with the sound of the Koroks giggling.

“Silly silly silly soldier went off the path!” one of them giggled.

“No fair Mr. Soldier, you gotta go back to the start!” another said in a sing song voice.

“No cheating!”

“Can’t get Mr. Hero now!”

“Mr. Hero’s always safe in the Lost Woods.”

“Cause we make everyone get _lost.”_

One of them laughed mischievously. “Time to go, Mr. Soldier.”

With a gust of wind and a shout from the poor soldier who had chased after him, they were gone, and Link sighed in relief from his perch at the top of a tree. Dropping down quickly, he gave a short glance around before following the feeling in his gut and wandering to his right. A blupee hopped past him, staring at him with bright yellow eyes before disappearing in a puff of light. He considered following it for a moment before shaking his head and continuing down the path. Enough trouble waited for him without wasting any more time.

He wandered for a few minutes in near silence, the only sound the occasional chime of the wind and rustling of leaves as Koroks trailed after him curiously. The sword felt lighter on his back here, and the eyes of the Koroks were never as heavy and overbearing as the eyes of the rest of the world. Where the rest of Hyrule looked at him with expectancy, with an uncomfortable awe and the heavy weight of burden, the children of the forest looked with a simple kind of wonder, and with a comfortable familiarity that spoke of that strange connection they shared.

That topic afforded some further thought. Sometimes he would catch one of them saying something very strange. Well...perhaps he ought to elaborate that thought a little further, because the Koroks were always saying strange things. They took great advantage of the fact that he was the only one who could understand them. Things were very frequently strange in the Lost Woods.

But their strange jokes and odd obsession with blupees wasn’t his concern. No, he meant the odd comments when he did something they recognized. It came occasionally when he would speak to them, and they would tell him his hands were “still funny,” or when he showed them fairies and they told him (in whispers, as if it were a great secret) that they “remembered Mr. Hero’s fairy,” or when he would occasionally convince Epona to come along with him into the Woods and they would flutter around her all nervous, rambling on about all the times they had “taken care of her when Mr. Hero was sleeping.”

Even when he had pulled the sword from its pedestal, and that strange voice had rang through the Lost Woods (as if there weren’t enough strange voices in the Lost Woods), and the Koroks had all given loud shouts of joy, singing odd little songs about “Mr. Hero remembering his friend in the sword.”

The Lost Woods were very strange indeed.

He tried not to think about all the weird things the Koroks said to him. After all, they were incredibly kind, and had picked him up out of enough slumps to merit practically anything they said to him. They had given him more than half of Hyrule combined, and he had known them for only a handful of years.

It was strange to even think it had been that long since his father had nudged him into the fog and left him to his own devices. That day was...a mixed bag. He brushed the thought of it away before it could depress him any further.

Luckily, distraction came quickly, in the form of a very large, very round Korok running (or making a solid attempt to) through the thicket in front of him, mumbling a sad string of nonsense words.

Link sighed. Hestu.

Shaking his head, he approached the tree creature quickly, sword clanging a little off the bow strapped to his back. Hestu heard his approach and turned, giving him an oddly dismayed look before wandering over, beady eyes downcast.

“Shoko...hi, Mr. Hero,” he said sadly, sniffling.

 _“What’s wrong?”_ Link asked, trying to meet his gaze as he looked at his hands.

Hestu gave another loud sniffle. “The children of the forest have taken my maracas again,” he said sadly, shaking his leafy head. “I know they like their pranks very much, and I like making them laugh, but I miss my maracas very much, Mr. Hero.”

Link frowned, glancing around for a moment, but there were no other Koroks in sight. _“We can find them?”_

Hestu stared blankly at his hands for a moment before meeting his eyes, almost stunned. “Mr. Hero will help?” he asked quietly.

Link nodded, and Hestu smiled, a very toothy grin poking out from under his leafy mask.

“Yaaaaay!” he sang, bouncing between his feet for a moment, losing a few leaves from his head in the process. “Mr. Hero is good at finding things. Shakala, yes! This will work!”

Holding back a laugh, Link followed Hestu further into the Woods, where the fog got very thick, and almost all sound faded away. He had been this far in only a handful of times, when he wanted to escape everyone (including the children of the forest), but Hestu was close by, and nothing in these Woods could really hurt them. Besides, there were no other Koroks around to give them trouble, so they could wander without much question.

“Shoko, I wonder if they have hidden them in a tree?” Hestu asked after a few moments’ quiet, peeking his large head into the mouth of one of the massive trees nearby. “Ah! Look, Mr. Hero! There’s a beetle in this tree’s mouth! I didn’t know trees ate beetles...”

Link laughed a little this time, drawing Hestu’s attention. _“Beetle lives there,”_ he signed sloppily, waving forward. _“Checking the trees is a good idea, though. We can look up ahead.”_

Hestu looked toward where Link pointed before staring at his hands again. “I wish I had fingers,” he said quietly. “Can’t do very much with only thumbs”

_“You can still use your maracas.”_

He gasped. “True! Okay, I’m okay with being a tree now. As long as I can dance, I don’t care what I am...shalaka, perhaps I should tell Grandpa that.”

Leaving his strange comment to hang in the air, Hestu skipped away to the next tree, swinging his hands and mumbling another nonsense song. Link followed, peering into the mouths of the trees he passed, but finding nothing. Further and further into the Lost Woods they went, until the fog was so thick that no sound came through.

“This is where Chio says he saw the blue bunny, Mr. Hero,” Hestu reported, pointing down one line of trees. “They always run away though...”

_“They’re nervous.”_

“Yeah,” Hestu said, looking into another tree. “Koroks won’t hurt the blue bunnies though! Grandpa says that some travelers poke them until the little shinies come out. That’s not very nice. And Koroks have no use for the little shinies. Oaki hides them under rocks for Hylians to find. And Pepp likes throwing them in the water. Oh! And Peeks uses them for game pieces.”

Link laughed. _“Hylians use them for money.”_

“Really? That’s weird. Too small to be money. Isn’t money supposed to be big?”

Link shrugged, looking into the mouth of another tree.

“Koroks don’t need money anyway,” Hestu said cheerily. “There’s plenty of good stuff in the forest. We can make weapons and food and masks and all kinds of stuff. Money would just be silly.”

Shaking his head a little, Link continued on down the path, and they kept up their search for Hestu’s maracas. A soft wind began to blow from somewhere, and it started to smell like water...they must have gotten close to the edge at some point, where the cliff dropped off suddenly into the lake water below. Link wondered half heartedly where exactly they were, but he put it out of mind quickly. It didn’t matter very much. They were just stumbling around, looking for Hestu’s maracas and finding very little.

Until he poked his head into the mouth of a very large tree, that is, and found a brightly shining chest resting inside.

“Shala-kala! Mr. Hero, you found something!” Hestu came stumbling over, bouncing up and down behind him. “Oooooh, open it open it open it!”

Nodding, Link pushed the lid of the chest open, and they looked inside, Hestu still bouncing up and down in excitement. But the tree creature froze when he saw what was inside. Link frowned, tilting his head at the strange object before reaching inside to pull it from the chest.

It was a mask of some kind, clearly, given that it was the size and shape of a face. But it looked nothing like the masks he had seen before. Most masks that Hylians used were purely decorative—ornate recreations of the masks mentioned in legends. They hung on walls and were made of thick clay or paper, too heavy or too old to still be worn.

This mask, however, looked brand new despite being hidden in a tree in the middle of the Lost Woods. And it was not made of clay or paper—in fact, it looked like a leaf.

Wait a minute.

“Mr. Hero found the Korok mask,” Hestu whispered, sounding very surprised. “Shala-kala, it has been a very long time since Mr. Hero found this mask...”

Link looked over at Hestu curiously, but his eyes were glued to the mask. After a moment he smiled again, big and bright as he danced between his feet.

“Mr. Hero! This is very exciting!” he sang, as if such things were not immediately clear. “The Korok mask helps Mr. Hero find Koroks outside the Lost Woods. In case they are hiding, or Mr. Hero needs help. It hasn’t been used in a veeeeeery long time, but it’s still good, see?”

Hestu reached out and poked at the windmill on the side of the mask, which spun with a recognizable jingle. It sounded just like the windmills scattered around Korok Forest. The mask gave a strange shake, wiggling in Link’s hands for a moment. Hestu laughed.

“You gotta put it on or else it won’t work, silly,” he said, and that was all the warning Link got before Hestu took the mask carefully from him and forced it on his face.

It fit...suspiciously well. And despite definitely being made from a large leaf, it was quite comfortable, and he could see out of it well, even as the mask gave another odd shake, windmill spinning lazily for a moment.

Hestu gave a hoot for joy, dancing around in a circle. A few Koroks poked out from their hiding places behind trees, joining in the strange celebration. They danced around him in a haphazard circle, shouting and singing.

“Mr. Hero found our mask!”

“Now we can find Mr. Hero when he needs help!”

“And Mr. Hero can find us when we play hide and seek!”

Link stared around for a moment, very confused, watching them all dance around. Hestu hurried back over to him, bouncing up and down.

“See, Mr. Hero? Still good! Shoko...if we find my maracas, then we will have found everything here! And then we can see Grandpa! Oooh, yes! C’mon, Mr. Hero!”

Hestu grabbed Link by the arm and pulled him along, Korok mask still shaking and spinning with its odd little jingle, a dozen Koroks trailing after them.

******

“Link.”

He looked up from his spot at the edge of the little landing, back into the hut. It was a little smaller than the ones in Rito, but plenty big enough for just one person (and the...occasional guest). There was a fire and a cooking pot, and they had even managed to swing a hammock up in the far corner, tucked against the cliff wall and out of the wind. It was nothing particularly fantastic, but it was quiet, and no one bothered them up here. Neither of them were very good with people...solitude was far better. Besides, being quite literally feet from the Flight Range was incredibly convenient.

Revali stood near the ladder up, where Link had dropped his bag when he came here, hours ago. He had a strange look in his eyes, somewhere between amusement and disgruntled confusion. Shaking his head, he held something out for Link to see.

“What on _earth,”_ he said, almost laughing if he didn’t sound so forcefully stern. He started over. “Link, what _is_ this thing?”

He dangled the Korok mask from a feathered finger, an odd smirk to his expression. Link rolled his eyes, dragging himself to his feet and wandering over.

_“You’ve been going through my things again.”_

“Yes, well, you were moping, and I had to entertain myself somehow,” he shook the mask at him, and the windmill spun for a moment. “Now—answer my question. What is this thing?”

 _“Korok mask,”_ he signed quickly.

“A Korok mask,” Revali repeated flatly, staring at it again with new interest, despite the tone. “You mean _this_ is what those little devils look like? They’re _leaves?”_

Link laughed. _“Sort of. Koroks are small, like little trees. They wear leaves for masks.”_

“Right. And you have a leaf mask because?”

He shrugged. _“It’s mine. I found it in the Lost Woods. They said it’s mine, so I have it.”_

Revali stared at him for a few seconds before shaking his head as he put the mask back. “You say the strangest things. You _have_ the strangest things. Next thing I know, you’re going to pull a Great Fairy out of that bag and shrug at me as if it’s completely normal.”

 _“A Great Fairy wouldn’t fit in my bag,”_ Link signed with a smirk. _“I do know where one is, though.”_

That got Revali’s full attention. “How do you know where everything is? Last week you were telling me all about some hidden shrine you found, now you tell me you’ve found a Great Fairy? And I _still_ haven’t seen this hidden shrine.”

_“I can show you both, they’re pretty close to each other.”_

Revali huffed, passing him and taking his previous spot on the edge of the landing. “I suppose that will have to do. But not tonight. Tomorrow maybe.”

Link dropped into the space next to him, nodding. _“Tomorrow.”_

They fell silent. Wind howled in the Flight Range, the targets blinking in the brightness of the moonlight, like an invitation to do the thing they had originally come here to do. Training was such an excellent built in excuse, Link had no idea how he hadn’t thought to use it sooner.

But Revali was right. Tonight was not the night for such activities. Not when it was so beautiful out, so peaceful for once. The sky was surprisingly clear for winter, all the stars visible with only the occasional passing cloud. Loose snow drifted about from the nearby mountains, but the cold was not so bitter now as it was a few months back.

Link watched the movement of the snow for a few moments, thoughts drifting where they always did. Despite the peacefulness of the night, he knew it wouldn’t last. There was too much laying in wait for the years ahead—too much training, too much traveling, too much endless searching for the answer to a problem only one selfish girl could answer, all while said girl berated him constantly for things outside his control. Too many days to be spent under the ever present eye of all of Hyrule, with the only respite being hundreds of miles away doing his own training.

The future hung over them with a weight big enough to crush them both. Crush Link, without a doubt. Revali had his own responsibilities of course, and piloting a Divine Beast was no small feat. But both of them knew intuitively that the weight hit Link with far more breadth. Revali had Rito Village to protect.

Link had _Hyrule._

Put simply, they were running out of time. Running out of time before this appointed knight nonsense would have Link trailing the princess across the continent, following her everywhere she went with no hope of any time with someone who _didn’t_ despise him. For all his hopes and attempts at polite acquaintanceship (there was no way they were ever going to be _friends),_ the princess continued to ignore him at best, and belittle him at worst. His only relief was these desperate stop offs at Rito, or the occasional disappearance into the Lost Woods with some excuse. Only then could he find some kind of brief happiness. All the rest of his time was spent trapped in Hyrule Castle, or the training grounds, or Hateno dealing with his father’s business, or—

“You’re doing it again.”

He looked over at Revali quickly, confused. The Rito was watching him closely, as he always did, that characteristic disapproving look on his face.

“Overthinking everything,” Revali elaborated with a frown. “You’re doing it again, I can see it in your eyes.”

Link only stared. There was nothing to say. Revali would see through him in a second if he tried to lie. And he was usually right, anyway.

“We’ve still got time,” he said with a sigh, looking into the Flight Range with a distant expression. “And if you think I’m not going to steal you away from your princess at least once a week, you’ve lost your mind. Medoh is a joy and all, but she can hardly hold a conversation. And considering the prickly nature of your princess, I suspect you’ll be just _desperate_ for my colorful commentary.”

Link gave a breathy laugh before nodding. _“I will miss you, yes.”_

Revali humphed. “Good. I’ll miss you too...” he said quietly, glancing away for a moment before meeting Link’s gaze, something close to worry in his eyes. “There isn’t a time limit on this sort of thing, is there?”

_“What do you mean?”_

“We haven’t the slightest clue when you’ll be _done_ touting that girl around the country, do we?”

Link looked down for a moment before shaking his head. All he knew was he was meant to escort the princess wherever she went—for protection, was the official excuse. To be fair, the king had looked...apologetic, when he told Link the nature of his work for the castle, but the mandate remained the same. He was to follow Zelda wherever she went, and keep her safe.

Despite the fact that she couldn’t stand to look at him.

“You haven’t even been officially appointed yet, and already she’s dragging you about,” Revali said with distaste, crossing his arms. “It’s been what, a little over a year since you joined the guard? All that time following her around whenever they tell you to, without a hope of any time for yourself. And still she treats you like the mat under her feet—no, worse.”

Link gave a weary shrug. _“I think it comes with the sword, this job.”_

Revali huffed. “Please, that was nowhere in the fine print of your birth certificate,” he said, and he began to mime reading a long document. “Ah, yes, line thirty-six, ‘Hylia’s chosen Hero, wielder of the legendary sword that seals the darkness, and chauffeur to the fifteen year old princess of Hyrule.’ Of course, how could I have forgotten?”

Link swatted him on the arm, and Revali laughed, but his expression fell back to that displeased look, worry mixed in somewhere. “You are to defeat Ganon, not the Goddess’ spoiled conduit.”

_“I can hardly refuse the job.”_

“That’s the awful part, you know.”

They went quiet once more, but it was a less heavy silence, just a little bit closer to normal. If he distracted himself enough, put the sword still strapped to his back out of his mind, Link could almost convince himself this was just a normal night. Maybe they didn’t have to go their separate ways in less than six hours. Maybe there wasn’t a princess wandering somewhere near the stable in search of her always disappearing knight. Maybe they could stay here a little longer.

“Is she always as insufferable as she is in the village?” Revali blurted out suddenly.

Link smirked for a moment before it fell away. He nodded. _“She doesn’t like me very much.”_

“Fool.”

_“I don’t know why.”_

“Because you’ve got your sword, and what does she have? Nothing,” Revali answered his own question, sounding miffed. “She’s _jealous_ of _you,_ and it’s the most selfish set of feelings I’ve ever seen. Incredibly childish. As if your fate is not already a burden enough. I don’t know how we’re meant to follow _her_ lead when she can barely allow you to do your _job.”_

Link shrugged.

“I’m serious. How are we meant to succeed in this if she—” he cut off with a frustrated shake of his head. “We are betting the fate of the world on the abilities of a child.”

_“Which child?”_

Revali looked at him, stunned for a moment before smacking him upside the head. “Of all the—why would I be referring to you? You’ve handled a sword better than anyone in Hyrule for as long as I’ve known you. And you’re hardly a child. Hylia, you are _dense.”_

Link only sniggered, easily blocking his next attempt to smack at him. _“She’s not that much younger than us, you know.”_

“Age is not the problem. I’ve seen more maturity in Mipha’s brother, and he’s what, seven?”

_“Nine.”_

“As if that makes any difference to them,” Revali grumbled, looking around the Flight Range for a moment. “The point is, your princess is nearly of age, and she runs about bullying her protection because she’s self conscious of her own failures. Having an ego is one thing, being a spoiled brat is another. _Children_ behave that way, not princesses, and certainly not ones who are meant to lead a pack of warriors into battle with an ancient evil.”

Link frowned, but he let the subject drop. He didn’t want to talk about Zelda. That topic only lead down one path, and it never made him feel any better about their situation.

Revali seemed to realize this as well, glancing over at him before sighing. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, all the fire gone from his voice for a moment.

A little surprised, Link shook his head quickly. _“It’s okay. You’re right, anyway.”_

They stared at each other for a few seconds, the wind picking up again and blowing loose snow into the hut. Link moved a little closer to Revali on the landing, hesitating. But he seemed to come to a decision right about then, and he leaned over, resting his head on Revali’s shoulder. Revali jolted at the sudden contact, going very still with his eyes wide. But after a few seconds he only sighed, leaning his head on top of Link’s. They sat together for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet peace for what it was, trying to forget what was to come.

“That mask is despicably ugly, by the way.”

******

Hestu frowned, adjusting his leafy mask with a nervous fidget. He looked up at the dark sky, then back at Mr. Hero, who stood exactly where he had for the past few minutes. His eyes were closed, and he was not moving. He looked ill, if Hestu were honest, standing too still for too long. Mr. Hero was never so still. Always moving, that one. Always doing something.

“Mr. Hero should sit down, you don’t look so good,” he said quietly, thinking before looking around again. “Hmm...what should Hestu do?”

Hestu flittered around nervously for a moment, unsure. Grandpa would know what to do, but he was miles and miles away, back at home.

What had he said about Mr. Hero coming back? There was something very important Hestu was forgetting, something that Mr. Hero had to do when he woke up from his nap...that was it! Mr. Hero forgot! And he had to get his memories _back._

Hestu wondered if that was what was happening right now. After all, Hestu had only given Mr. Hero his mask back, and then he had gone very quiet for several minutes. And now he looked like he might get sick, whenever he opened his eyes. He was very pale, and he was shaking just a little. Hestu wondered if it was a bad memory, that Mr. Hero was remembering. Maybe that was why he looked so sad.

Hestu did not want Mr. Hero to be sad. Despite being a tree for several hundred years, Hestu could remember the last time Mr. Hero had to save Hyrule...not one hundred years ago, but loooooong before that. Mr. Hero had been sad then, too...Mr. Hero was almost always sad...there was a lot to lose when the whole world depended on you, Hestu supposed. And Mr. Hero tended to lose a lot of things he cared about...

Hestu remembered one hundred years ago, too...he remembered the exact moment when they knew Mr. Hero had...the whole forest had gone quiet, then. Grandpa had been very sad. Lots of the children of the forest had cried. Hestu just felt sick, unsure what to do when they were so far away. They couldn’t help, either. There was nothing they could do...

But Hestu also remembered the moment when Mr. Hero’s sword had spoken, when she had talked to the princess. All the Koroks knew Mr. Hero’s sword was very smart—she had been made by the Goddess after all, so she knew what to do. So when she told the princess that Mr. Hero could be saved, the Koroks had hope again. They had even gone to help, in the little way that they could. No one could see them, of course, but they tried to keep Mr. Hero awake for as long as they could before the strange scientist people took Mr. Hero into the cave. A few of the Koroks stayed to keep watch.

In the hundred years since then, everyone went to say hi to Mr. Hero’s cave every once in a while. Grandpa told his stories about Mr. Hero, and what they had to do when he woke up from his nap. His sword slept in her pedestal, waiting, and the Koroks watched over Hyrule, waiting too. Hestu wandered around, looking for blue bunnies and trying to find some of the children of the forest who wandered off.

That was how he had come to this path, and how Mr. Hero had found him in the monster’s camp. He had been so happy to see Mr. Hero again. Peeks was too, Hestu could tell. He hoped that Mr. Hero would come get his sword soon, and save Hyrule, and the princess, and all his friends.

Hestu sighed a little, watching Mr. Hero nervously. Still, he had not moved. It must be a long memory, Hestu thought, for it to keep Mr. Hero as long as it was. He hoped it was a good one...but Mr. Hero still looked very sad...

That was okay though. Hestu would keep Mr. Hero safe until his memory was back. Then Mr. Hero might need another nap, Hestu decided with a nod. He looked very tired, standing so still for so long.

******

“Hmm, it has been a long time, Mr. Hero.”

Reality came back to Link with a jolt this time, his eyes shooting open quickly to come face to face with Hestu. The large Korok was quite close, leaning slightly over him with a worried sort of look in his beady eyes. He jumped at Link’s sudden awareness, giving a little shout before looking more closely at him in the darkness.

“Shoko...yes, Mr. Hero should _definitely_ sit down,” he said matter of factly, plopping down to the ground in front of him and waving for him to do the same. “C’mon Mr. Hero, it won’t hurt.”

He stared down at Hestu for a few seconds, a little dazed. But he couldn’t seem to feel his legs anymore, and found himself sinking to the ground across from him without protest. Hestu said something more, but Link didn’t catch his words. Everything felt very distant, as if it were happening to another person, another time. Like he was looking through a tunnel just to see the current moment, like this person sitting on the grass just a mile or so from Kakariko wasn’t at all him, and he had somehow mistakenly stumbled upon him.

Somehow he ended up staring at his hands, trying to stop them from shaking. He couldn’t. And he couldn’t seem to get enough air, and everything felt like it was slipping away from him, falling through his fingers, and he could do nothing to catch any of it. The exhaustion from before had returned with a vengeance. He didn’t think he would be able to move from this spot for quite some time. Not that he had any thought of doing so. He couldn’t seem to think straight at all, his thoughts only spiraled, falling further and further away from him.

It felt like he had left a part of himself back on the landing of the Flight Range, leaning on Revali with his entire dark future ahead of him. Like he’d left everything that ever could have mattered back there, where he couldn’t hope to reach it. Like no matter how quickly he managed the endless list of tasks set before him, nothing would really bring back what he had lost.

“Oh, Mr. Hero, don’t cry,” Hestu said softly, and only then did Link realize why his vision had become so blurry. Hestu scooted closer to him on the grass, looking very nervous. “It’ll be okay, Mr. Hero, just like always.”

He wanted to believe Hestu. He wanted to believe that everything would turn out for the best, that this feeling of emptiness in his mind would eventually disappear, that he could _really_ get back everything he had lost, that they could win this time, that this burden he’d carried around for over a hundred years would finally go away—

But right now, sitting in the grass in the middle of a land he could not remember, without a clue of what was to come, without a memory of any of the things which he _knew_ were most important, with only a shambling of half formed thoughts and opinions and a whole mess of obligations that needed to be met regardless of his state of mind...he wasn’t so sure. He had been awake for only a few days, had stumbled upon only a handful of memories, been handed a hundred year overdue set of objectives and tasks and people to save, without a clue of how to do it or where to begin. And no matter how certain of himself he was (when those brief moments of clarity came, that is) it always fell away in the face of something he could only just now recall.

He wanted to believe that everything would sort itself out. He really did. Hopelessness was not in his character, never had been. He had known what would likely happen to him, had known the consequences for who he was since he was seven. He didn’t need all of his memories to know that. It had hung over him as soon as he had woken up, he just couldn’t place the feeling.

Despite it all, he knew implicitly that he would get up from this slump in the grass. He would find the strength to rise back to his feet, get Epona, and travel the last mile to Kakariko, talk to Impa, and continue this journey. Without a doubt, he would find it in himself to continue. There was simply no other choice.

But he had never felt this alone before. He had no one. Everyone who had been there one hundred years ago was gone. Everyone that could have helped was gone. He had to save them, he had to save all of them. And he couldn’t even remember them properly. He couldn’t even remember _himself_ properly.

All the expectation, the eyes constantly watching, the unending burden of the entire _world,_ it all had come back before he could even gain his bearings, before he could remember who he was, or what had happened, or how on earth he could possibly fix it all. He had stumbled his way back into his life with no hope of finding his way on his own, only to be told that he must find his way on his own. Sure, there were people he would be required to meet, save, remember, but the task was his and his alone. He had failed one hundred years ago, and yet the world expected him to quickly pick himself back up off the ground, regain his strength and all the things taken from him, save the ones he loved (and the ones he did not) and defeat an evil whose sole want was to destroy him.

Putting his head in his hands, Link found he could do nothing else at the moment but sit here, trying to hold the remaining pieces of himself together, just for long enough to do this, just for long enough to get them back, to finish the job he had failed one hundred years prior. Then he could fall apart. Then he could...maybe rest, for once. Yes, then he could...he just had to finish this, and then...

Wiping dazedly at his eyes, Link pushed himself painfully to his feet. Hestu stood, saying something, but again, Link found he could not catch the words. Epona had somehow appeared behind him, and he grabbed her reins desperately, dragging himself back into the saddle.

Trying to focus, he turned back to Hestu, signing a sloppy, _“Have to go. Sorry. Will be back.”_

Before Hestu could offer any kind of protest, he urged Epona forward again, and (reluctantly) she followed his command, taking them back onto the path toward Kakariko.


	6. Collapse

_This...is wrong...something...is...wrong..._

_Have to...keep...awake...have to..._

_Didn’t...we promise...to find each other..._

_So...tired...I’m...sorry...I’m sorry..._

_Trying...I’m trying to...remember..._

_I’ll...find you...I promise...I’ll..._

Link awoke with a shout to the sight of the sun coming up from the horizon, Hyrule lit aflame in an orange glow. Epona jolted at his sudden movement, looking back at him with a nervous whinny. He had no idea how he had fallen asleep—or where he was—or what was happening. But the thoughts were still swirling around his mind, tumbling over each other in nervous jumblings, all surrounding the mess of remembrances from years ago.

He had to find him, he had to go now, had to—

Without even realizing it, he had turned Epona on the path, back toward Rito Village, miles and miles the other way. He jolted as he noticed, pulling her to a jerking halt and staring at his hands as if they had betrayed him.

No—Impa. He had to get to Impa. That was it. Not...not Revali. Impa first. Then...

Hands shaking, thoughts dissipating with every gust of wind, mind a million miles away, he took a weak hold of Epona’s reins once again and nudged her forward from where she had stopped, back toward Kakariko. He wiped at his eyes blearily, trying not to think about anything and only watching the path as it curved deeper into the mountains. Every piece of him that remained was begging to turn around, to stop for just a moment, to sink to the ground and fall into nothingness once more, to _rest for once, just once—_ but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t return to the world he had left behind.

He had to keep going. There was no other choice. There had never really been any other choice.

The sounds of the nearby village began to fade in, and Link tried to stay awake, tried to center himself on something, anything that was happening now. As he passed under the arch of the village, dropped from the saddle and left Epona to search for apples, he tried to ignore the emptiness in his mind, the distance he felt from his own eyes, the obscene effort it took just to walk into the village. People passed him by, but he barely noticed them, barely recognized they were there until they were jostling past him in the hurry of their own lives.

Just make it to Impa. He only had to make it to Impa. Then...he could...sleep...and...

******

Kakariko Village sat nestled amongst a set of very strange, misshapen mountains, covered in thick grass and moss. At one end of the village, there was a massive set of waterfalls stemming from the river at the peak of the village’s domain. From there, the village sprawled outward in a lackadaisical pattern of dark wooden buildings and small farms. The village center held a thriving marketplace, a disused inn, and a statue of the Goddess resting amongst several torches that were kept lit constantly. Villagers wandered the well worn paths through the village, talking quietly to each other with a familiarity few could still experience in the desolate lands that sat elsewhere in Hyrule. The sun rose on the village as it had every day for the past hundred years, dragging adults and children into their daily routines.

None of them paid much mind to the strange traveler weaving his way dazedly through the village. Travelers were expected in Kakariko. Being one of the only surviving villages, the Sheikah homestead had quickly grown accustomed to its role as a wayward point for the lost. So initially, they didn’t mind this strange young man’s presence. In fact, the majority of them did not notice him at all.

Nanna noticed him. But Nanna noticed a great deal more than the young people around her. She had been here much longer than they had, remembered the day of the Calamity when she had been just a small child. She knew the reason why she sat at the village’s entrance each day, greeting travelers and directing them to the elder as needed. When the shrines began to glow, she knew it would soon be time. She had readied herself as much as she could, doubling her self-assigned duties and speaking to everyone who came into the village with renewed vigor.

A nasty fall and a twisted ankle later, Nanna found herself waiting a little further from the entrance than she would have liked. Of course, it wasn’t all too bad to sit by the inn. After all, it was quiet in this section of the village, and near enough to the entrance that she could see everyone who came in and left. Besides, this little step was far more comfortable than the grass under the tree.

This morning was a quiet one. The sun had just come up, and Nanna was making her way from her little house over to the inn to start her watch. Only a few people were awake at this point: some farmers starting their work, a few guards trading posts, and shopkeepers opening up for the day. But besides that, the village was quiet as Nanna slowly made her way to her spot.

She saw him as soon as he dropped down from his horse, though she didn’t think much of him then, if she were honest. Just another traveler. A particularly young one, but that was more common these days. At least this one had been smart enough to leave his steed outside of the village. This was no stable, after all. Sighing wearily, Nanna had watched him make his slow, labored way through the thin crowd. People jostled him, but he hardly seemed to notice. Even as children pushed past him, forcing him to stumble back a step, he barely flinched, only froze for a moment with a dazed sort of look before continuing down the path.

This worried Nanna. Something was wrong with that young man. He must have been ill, and lost certainly, judging by the way he continued to look confusedly around. Perhaps she should tell the guards. They could get Impa, after all, and healers if necessary. Poor boy, wandering all alone like that.

Wait a minute now. There was something familiar about that young man. He was a little short, young in the face, with messy blond hair that was currently sticking up in what appeared to be every possible direction. His eyes were blue, very tired looking, and more than his fair share of dazed. He looked like he was barely on his feet, wandering through the village with his eyes set on the elder’s house just under the falls. As he got quite close to her spot, the sense that she had surely seen this boy before only grew stronger.

Then, as he was just a few feet from her—there, on his belt—but it couldn’t possibly be—he hesitated, swaying on his feet, and that was absolutely a Sheikah Slate—

Hyrule’s lost Hero collapsed right about then. He buckled on the path, landing on the ground in an unruly heap in the middle of Kakariko Village. A small crowd gathered around almost immediately, the villagers worrying about, and the whispers picked up just as quickly. As a couple of visiting outsiders peered in curiously, Nanna shooed them all away, waving them back to their business before crouching next to the boy with worry.

******

_He found himself floating once more in that space between dream and reality, the same way he had...before. It wasn’t really a place, per say. At least...not yet. There was certainly more shape to it now than there had been before. He found he could look around, now, and have some sense of space. He could tell he was here now too, could look down at his hands and at the ground at his feet, the lumpy fog of some unknown shapes and things. But it was not clear enough for him to tell just where he was, what those shapes were or how he had gotten here._

**_“You’re a fool, you know.”_ **

_He startled, turning quickly and coming face to face with—_

**_“You run yourself down like that again, and this is going to take longer than it already has,”_ ** _Revali said, arms crossed as he stared down at Link with a strange expression._ **_“I will hand it to you, though. Collapsing in the middle of Kakariko is quite a way to make an entrance...”_ **

_Link stared, having no coherent thought to voice. Revali was here..._ **_really_ ** _here...not just his voice, but_ **_him,_ ** _standing a few feet away and watching Link with a displeased kind of sadness. He looked exactly the same as he had years ago—a couple inches taller than Link, feathers the same dark blue, his Champion’s scarf blowing in some unseen wind and those damn eyes that somehow saw through everything Link did._

 **_“You’re going to really hurt yourself,”_ ** _he went on quietly after a moment, watching Link just the same as Link watched him._ **_“As if dying weren’t enough, now you’re failing at taking care of yourself just as spectacularly as you did back then...”_ **

_He sighed, shaking his head and looking away, toward something Link could not make out through the darkness. The fog shifted—he still couldn’t tell where they were, really, but it felt...familiar._

_Revali turned back to face him, some immeasurable sadness in his eyes._ **_“You’ll remember soon enough.”_ **

_Link must have looked confused, because Revali laughed suddenly, coming a little closer._

**_“Your thoughts are very loud,”_ ** _he said with a shake of his head._ **_“This...connection is a strange one. I don’t really know how it works, but you’ve made yourself plenty loud, don’t worry.”_ **

_Link gawked at him for a moment, brushing it quickly aside as he distracted himself with how—how impossible this situation was. There was no explanation for how Revali could just be—just be_ **_here,_ ** _when he barely remembered him and they were a thousand miles apart—_

 **_“I would prefer not to question it,”_ ** _Revali cut his rambling thoughts off._ **_“We have this time...this...”_ ** _he trailed away, coming a little closer. He reached out, hesitating just an inch or so away from Link’s face._ **_“This is a gift. I’m not going to ask why it was sent. I think...I think you need it. And Hylia knows I need it.”_ **

_With a sigh weighed down with a hundred years of weariness, he dropped his hand back to his side, but he didn’t look away from Link._ **_“I won’t stand to see you destroy yourself,”_ ** _he said suddenly, a now recognizable fire coming into his eyes._ **_“This journey was never going to be easy, but you make it no simpler by running yourself into the ground. Your memories come back with time, not force...and you have to let them come to you, not try to grasp for more.”_ **

_He turned, walking a few feet away with his eyes somewhere Link couldn’t see._ **_“Although...perhaps there’s a way that I can help...lead you in the proper direction...”_ **

_The fog shifted once more, but not enough to show where they were. Link looked around confusedly, trying to remember, trying to understand it all. Little fragments of memories flittered through his thoughts, just small pieces—a mountain top, holding a hand, a frantic embrace—and then—_

_Blue, too much blue—and he was going to—he was—they were everywhere, and he couldn’t get_ **_away—_ **

**_“Link,”_ ** _Revali said suddenly, very close again and staring at him earnestly. When had he gotten so close again?_ **_“Breathe, for the love of all the goddesses breathe. You’re safe now. I’m...I’m right here, just calm down.”_ **

_He tried, he tried, but everything felt like it was slipping through his hands and he couldn’t remember how he had gotten here. It felt like he couldn’t breathe, like his chest was collapsing on itself and he was going to drown. It was like—like that—that field by the shrine, when he couldn’t move and all he could see was a thousand fractured pieces of blue, and—_

**_“Please, I can’t do anything more than this,”_ ** _Revali said somewhat desperately, and Link managed to look up at him again briefly through the haze._ **_“That isn’t now. It’s in the past. It can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe for now. Think of other things, Link...we have better memories, remember?”_ **

_He nodded weakly, understanding,_ **_knowing_ ** _it to be true, but unable to grasp any of those better memories for himself._

 _How was he meant to do this? He couldn’t do this. He could barely keep it together for two days before everything was falling apart. A handful of memories to his name and already he was destroyed, weighed down by trauma he_ **_couldn’t remember_ ** _and trauma he very much wanted to forget, saddled with a burden he had never really forgotten, thrust back into the world just in time to be told it was dying and he had to stop it. And he didn’t even know who he was, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t have anyone to turn to. He had a list of tasks, an endless list of people and things to save, to regain, to remember, and he just wanted—he just wanted everything he had lost (the things he could and couldn’t remember) back._

_He just wanted Revali._

**_“You have me,”_ ** _Revali said, almost sounding exasperated if he weren’t so dragged down by some distant sadness._ **_“As much as you can, you do, Link. I’m here, as much as I can be...you deserve so much more than this half promise, but it’s all I have to offer. You_ ** **_can_ ** **_do this. Memories or not, difficulties aside, you_ ** **_will_ ** **_succeed. I know you will.”_ **

_Link shook his head, and finally summoned the will to sign a hectic, “I can’t, I don’t—I don’t know what I’m doing, I can’t—” he cut off, putting his head in his hands._

_Revali was quiet, and the silence weighed heavy. The fog shifted, dragging out so that the place where they were was almost visible, only just out of reach, like the other memories were when Link managed to recall something. Teasingly close, but too far to hold onto for long enough to really remember it. The fog only shifted back, and they were left in the dark once more, standing a few feet apart but miles away from each other._

_A gift this might have been, but it wasn’t enough. Even with only a handful of their memories back, Link knew this wasn’t enough. He needed Revali more than this faded connection, this dream place where they could talk, sometimes. He needed to save him, he needed to get him back, or he was going to—_

**_“You think so little of yourself,”_ ** _Revali said sadly, sounding worn._ **_“You’re so much stronger than you think you are, Link. So much stronger. You_ ** **_can_ ** **_do this, whether you believe me or not. If you couldn’t, then the Goddess would have had no reason to spare you a hundred years ago. There would be no reason for us to be here, no matter how battered the form. The fact of the matter is, you’re alive, and you’ve got a second chance at this thing. Fate is on your side, for once...”_ **

_He trailed off for a moment, and Link looked up at him once more as he looked around the space with a wistful expression._ **_“When this is over...”_ ** _he began quietly, his voice little more than a whisper in the wind._ **_“We’ll take back what we’ve lost. I promise you. There’s a long road ahead, but it has an end. Don’t forget that, please...there will be more that I can do, then...”_ **

_He watched Link for a few seconds before frowning slightly and coming closer once again._ **_“I want to try something. I’ve no idea if it will work. But...well, it will pass the time at least. I expect you’ll be asleep for quite some time...and if there is a way that I can help you, then...I want to try it.”_ **

_Link only stared at him, confused and exhausted, in more ways than he could possibly explain. Not in this strange space between reality and dream. Nothing here made sense. Revali was trapped in his Divine Beast, and Link was miles away in Kakariko (he assumed, anyway) but here they were, standing across from each other in some half formed dream world that shifted as it pleased. He shouldn’t have even been able to hear Revali, and yet...somehow, he was here._

_Maybe Revali was right, though. Maybe this was some twisted form of a gift, some brief peace from the mess his quest had already become, some interlude from a century’s built up torture and confusion. Whatever it was, however it worked, whether it was permanent or all a dream or just some delusion...he would take it as he could._

_Revali came a little closer once more, watching Link with a wary expression, some mix of hesitation and worry._ **_“I don’t know what you have already remembered...”_ ** _he said quietly._ **_“But I can...try to show you some happier ones...I don’t know how, but...I will try, whenever I can.”_ **

_Link nodded, and Revali almost smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He came closer, holding out a hand to Link. For a moment, they both hesitated, staring at each other and feeling the vast distance between them, the swath of time and space that kept them apart for as long as they had been. There was so much that should have made this impossible,_ **_did_ ** _make this strange already, and certainly not enough of a respite from all the pain each of them were facing in their own spheres...still, it was better than the loneliness of the day, the crushing solitude each of them had in their own way._

_So Link took his hand, hardly questioning the fact that he could do so in the first place, that they could hold hands here despite the dream-like state of this place, the brokenness of its foggy make up. They stared at their hands for another moment’s silence._

_And then a memory hit, and it all fell to pieces once more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short because the next part is HELLA long, and will be out within the next day or so (I'm just editing it rn). Thanks for reading!


	7. Rescue

* * *

He was running. 

In such a harried state, he didn’t think much of why he was running. He had only started, and now he couldn’t seem to stop. Time had passed, and he only continued, running through the snow as fast as he could. He didn’t know where he was going, really, having never been to this part of Hyrule before. He only knew he had to get  _ away,  _ had to go somewhere that wasn’t here, wasn’t anywhere near here. 

It was cold. It was not cold at home. 

There was certainly not this much snow at home either. 

He wanted to go home. 

The sound of footsteps chasing after him had long disappeared. After he had scrambled his way up the mountain face a little while back, even his father’s voice had disappeared, gone in the howls of the wind and the ceaseless stirring of snow. Still, Link ran. He ignored the pain...well, everywhere. He only kept running as fast as he could through the ever deepening snow, climbing up rock formations, sloshing through icy rivers, and ignoring the numbness creeping over him for as long as he could manage it. 

He didn’t want to go back. He  _ wouldn’t  _ go back. 

He wanted to go  _ home.  _

The wind howled around him, blowing thick snow into his eyes and dragging at his far too thin clothes. Wrapping his arms around himself, he looked around, trying to remember which way he had come from. The snow was coming down so fast it seemed to be covering up his tracks. The clouds were so thick he couldn’t tell which direction to go in, or how long it had been since he had run away. It didn’t feel like that long, but...his hands were very cold, and some of the bleeding had stopped. He wondered if it was because of the cold or because of how long it had been. 

The tears were freezing on his face, and it was getting a little hard to stay standing. His legs were shaking. He should go back, try to...explain to his father, or...get warm at least. But which way was home? Which way was anything? 

He had never been this far up the mountain. He hadn’t even wanted to come here. He just wanted to stay at home and play with the horses who came from the fields, or visit Purah at the tech lab, or try to remember how to cook the stew his mother used to make, or—

Sniffling and rubbing at his eyes, he took another few steps forward. It was better to keep moving than to stop, right? If he kept going this way, then maybe he could find somewhere to make a fire, or maybe a village. Maybe somebody would know how to talk to him, and he could...well, he could get warm at least...but they would send him back to his father, who would send him back to...

He missed his mother. She wouldn’t have sent him away...she would have...listened to him when he said what was...she wouldn’t have done any of this...

He shook his head, taking another set of stumbling steps through the snow. He couldn’t feel his hands anymore. That wasn’t good. Something under his foot gave way and he slipped, hitting the ground hard. He whimpered, struggling to get back to his feet in the snow and ice. It was too cold. He wasn’t going to make it back now. He had to find somewhere to go, somewhere to get warm—

“Look out!”

And suddenly something very blue (and very soft) was plowing into him, grappling for his hand with feathery fingers and dragging him off. Heavy footsteps followed as they ran, darting left and right in what felt like a random set of directions. All he could really do was follow, stumbling along after whoever had grabbed onto his hand and pulled him away. Squirming in their grip for a moment, he looked back to see what was chasing them. 

What looked like a solid block of ice was shambling after them on short, stumpy legs. It had no face, no voice, no anything really, except legs and a set of rocky arms, also made of ice. Somehow it knew where they were, though, following after them at a surprisingly fast pace, for being a block of ice. 

An ice talus. They were being chased by an ice talus. 

That...wasn’t good. 

“C’mon!” the voice said, and the person holding his hand jerked him to the right. He had no choice but to follow. 

Sudden darkness fell, and only then did he realize he had been dragged into a cave of some kind, hidden in the side of the mountain. They both tumbled to a halt, collapsing in an unruly heap of limbs and—feathers? Exhausted, and feeling very strange as he tried to catch his breath, Link looked to his right where the other person had fallen. 

Put bluntly, he looked a whole lot like a bird. Well, he  _ was  _ a bird of some kind...no wait...he was forgetting the word. Mother talked about them before...Rito! This stranger was a Rito! And a young one at that, he was quite small, but a little taller than Link was, probably. Maybe they were the same age...

Anyway, he was a dark blue sort of color, with big green eyes and a bright yellow beak. A bunch of little braids were done on the back of his head, with beads at the ends, the same colors as the thin armor he wore. His wings were sprawled out underneath him, feathery hands flat and loose. He was struggling to catch his breath just as much as Link, taking big heaping gulps of air and staring at the ceiling of the cave. After a few moments though, he looked over, watching Link carefully for a second before pushing himself up to sit. 

“That was close,” he said breathlessly, shaking his head and peering briefly out the entrance of the cave. “I thought you were gonna get clobbered.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, still struggling to catch their breath. The stranger seemed to find the silence awkward, glancing around the cave before meeting Link’s gaze again. 

“What are you doing out here anyway?” he asked as he sat up, tone somewhere between scolding and curious. “The elder said there was gonna be a really bad storm. He said that it wasn’t safe for us to go out, which means it’s  _ definitely  _ not safe for Hylians...”

He trailed off, waiting for a reply, but Link only stared from his slumped position on the ground. 

“I’m Revali,” the stranger said, looking at him suspiciously. “Who’re you?”

Link stared. His mind seemed to have gone blank, and his hands were too cold to possibly respond properly. He was beginning to shiver again, the adrenaline of their escape wearing off and leaving him very, very cold. 

Revali seemed to notice this too, looking him over with wide eyes before approaching slowly. “You’re hurt. I didn’t know the talus got you that bad.”

Link shook his head.

“It didn’t get you?”

He shook his head again. Revali frowned. 

“But you’re bleeding, see?” he pointed with a feathered finger to the ruined spot on Link’s shirt. “You’re not even dressed right, what are you  _ doing _ out here?”

Link didn’t answer. He only watched the strange little bird begin to pace on his taloned feet. He kept muttering to himself in a very scolding tone, but looked like he was trying to come up with some kind of plan, eyes occasionally flicking to the storm raging outside. With effort, Link managed to push himself into a sitting position, but quickly toppled back over at the pain in his hands and side. He landed on the ground with a yelp, whimpering and curling up in a ball. 

Revali jumped at his shout, running over. “Don’t do that, you’ll make it worse,” he scolded, looking worried as he watched Link curl up very small. “You gotta tell me what happened.”

Link only moaned, shaking his head again and shivering. 

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Revali sighed, sounding annoyed. “But you gotta let me help, at least. Lemme see.”

He reached for Link’s hand where it had covered over the bloody spot on his side, but Link only held tighter, looking at him with a (slightly panicked) confused stare. Revali froze, watching him carefully for several seconds, hand hovering in the air. Then a look of understanding came over him, and he looked again at the bruises on Link’s face, and the bloody spot on his shirt. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said very quietly, like he didn’t want to scare him. “I can help. I wanna help.”

They stared at each other for another moment or two, eyes wide. The wind howled harder outside, blizzard whipping up into something fierce. Link shivered as another gust of wind broke through the entrance of the cave, then he looked again at the strange young Rito who had found him. He didn’t seem like them...and he  _ had  _ saved him from that talus. After a second’s deliberation, Link nodded, and slowly uncurled his hand from his side. 

Revali sat down next to him, a frown of determination set in his expression. Despite his strangely brash behavior (and forceful demand that he  _ would  _ help), he was very careful when he looked at the nasty wound in Link’s side, careful not to mess too much with it. He froze when Link winced, glancing up at him quickly before looking again at the gash in his side. 

It wasn’t a big cut really, only an inch or so long and not too deep. But it was in a bad spot, and the cold wasn’t helping anything really. The skin around it was beginning to bruise, turning purple where it wasn’t already red from the cold. 

“That’s not good,” Revali said after a moment. “You need a healer. Or one of those weird drinks that make your head feel fuzzy. And you’re really cold...”

He trailed off, scooting a little closer to Link on the ground. Link only continued to stare at him, a nervous sort of fear clear in his wary expression. Revali caught his gaze, an innocent curiosity in his eyes. 

“You don’t talk much, huh?”

Link shook his head, frowning and fiddling with his fingers before trying to sit up again. Revali moved closer and tried to help, propping him up as best he could. They fumbled for a moment on the slippery ground, until eventually Link was mostly sitting up, leaning on Revali’s shoulder. As the two of them settled back down into a more comfortable position, Link noticed something. 

Revali was warm. Very warm. Link wiggled closer, holding tightly to him and hiding his face in his shoulder. Normally he would have been very uncomfortable by this situation, but he found at the moment that he didn’t care very much. 

For his part, the strange Rito didn’t seem to mind very much that Link was currently burrowing into him with all his might. He only sighed, as if this was the most normal and annoying thing to ever happen to him. 

“You’re lucky I’m nice,” he said flatly (but he didn’t sound too upset by the arrangement...and he had put an arm around Link anyway). “Other Rito would have thrown you off. Well...some of them anyway...”

Link’s only wriggled closer to him, feeling his feathers curiously. They were very soft. And ridiculously warm. Although...some of that could have been because Link was so cold at the moment. He decided he didn’t care very much just then. He was just glad to be warmer. Revali was picking at the scarf he wore, staring at him curiously as he had before. 

“So how’d you get hurt?” he asked after a pause, his voice still quiet, like he thought he would scare him.

Link froze, hands clenching. Revali pretended not to notice, still worrying at the edge of his scarf. 

“And how’d you get all the way up the mountain? You’re pretty small for a Hylian, and you’re not dressed right. Don’t Hylians get cold really fast? You could freeze.”

Link squirmed, but could not think of the right way to reply. Odds were Revali couldn’t understand him if he tried, and there was no way he was going to be able to talk to him. 

Revali was quiet for a minute, watching the snow through the crack in the cave wall. “Did you run away?”

He hesitated. That seemed to be enough of an answer for Revali, who frowned a little, picking at his scarf again. 

“Is it cause you got hurt?”

Very slowly, Link nodded, fidgeting with his frozen fingers for a minute before holding tighter to Revali. 

“I’m sorry,” Revali mumbled. 

Link gave a half hearted shrug.  _ “Not your fault,”  _ he signed without a thought, fingers stalling from the cold, and the pain from the scrapes on his hands. 

Revali stared at his hands. “So  _ that’s  _ how you talk,” he said, sounding amazed. “The elder made us learn some of that a few years ago, but I think I forgot most of it cause I can’t really do it with my feathers. I think I still know some letters though...”

Link perked up at that, wiggling away and facing Revali, despite the fact that he was still shivering very badly. 

“Hey, you’re gonna freeze, remember?”

Link shook his head, pointing with a shaking hand to himself, and then spelling something out, very slowly. He pointed again to himself and signed the same sequence of gestures. 

“Wait wait, slow down, lemme try to...” Revali trailed off, watching closely as Link repeated what he had signed, then pointed to himself once more. “L...I? Okay, um...N...is that K? Link? That’s your name?”

He nodded furiously, smiling big for a moment. 

“That’s cool.”

Link shrugged. 

“I’m Revali, but you already knew that,” he said, glancing outside again. “I think we should go back to Rito Village...it’s getting too cold, ‘specially for you.”

Link followed his gaze to the rapidly piling up snow outside. Thankfully, the sound of the talus had long disappeared, though its tracks were still visible, cutting a deep path through the drifts of snow. 

Revali stood, sticking a hand out for Link to grab. “C’mon. Rito Village isn’t far.”

Link frowned, glancing back in the general direction where he had come from. He shook his head slowly, putting a hand over the gash in his side again with a wince. 

“They won’t make you go back,” Revali said, somehow reading his thoughts. “Not if we sneak you in real good.”

They watched each other for a few seconds, each thinking over the pieces of their little plan. Link looked outside again, at the thickly piled snow, the endless clouds, the cold wind. There was no way he was going to be able to find his way back where he was meant to. And...well...he didn’t want to go back. 

And...he liked Revali.

It was decided then. 

_ “H-E-L-P,”  _ he signed slowly, watching Revali closely and repeating it again in a question. 

“Oh, help,” Revali said after a moment. “You need help?”

He nodded, then pointed at Revali. 

“Yeah, I can help,” he said with a nod, sticking his hand out again and pulling Link to his feet. He swayed a little, holding tighter to Revali’s hand as they made their way carefully to the edge of the cave. “Okay. Stick close.”

The change when they left the cave was immediate. While the cold had been uncomfortable before, it was  _ unbearable _ out here. Wind whipped fast, and thick snow poured down from above them, endlessly piling up around them and digging into their clothes and eyes. 

Revali didn’t seem bothered much, tugging Link along through the snow and down the mountain side. “Rito is this way!” he shouted over the wind, pulling Link closer as they reached a steep slope. “It’ll get warmer once we get off the mountain!”

They stumbled their way down the slope with haste, until the wind died off and grass started to poke out of the snow. Then suddenly it was very green, and a little warmer, but still cold and windy. The sun had gone down at some point, and the stars were beginning to blink into existence. Link stared up at them as Revali pulled him along, feeling very strange and sleepy. 

“It would be faster to fly,” Revali commented, kicking at the dirt. “But I don’t think I could carry you. And I don’t want to drop you. That wouldn’t be good.”

Link nodded vaguely, looking around at the rapid shift in scenery. It had been snowy and cold just a few feet away, and now it was rapidly warming, a breeze blowing leaves around. It wasn’t a particularly cold breeze, but Link hadn’t been warm in quite some time. He felt very shaky. 

“You really  _ are  _ cold,” Revali said, bringing him back to the present. “You were on the mountain for a while, huh?”

He nodded a little, but gave no other reply. Revali didn’t seem to mind, though, looking ahead as they came to a path through a small wood. Link moved a little closer to him, shivering. 

“That’s okay. There’s a fire in every roost in the village, and the wind’s not so bad up there. Plus, if I can find one of those weird little drinks, then we can warm you up in no time. And fix your hands.”

Frowning, Link glanced down at his free hand, and sure enough, it was all the wrong colors. The scrapes on his palms from climbing the mountain barehanded were still bleeding, and his fingers had gone purple at the tips from the cold. He still couldn’t really feel them, but his palms were beginning to throb. 

“Look, you can see the village now.”

The path had opened up without his notice, curving around a large drop off that fell all the way down into a lake, what looked like miles below them. Coming up from the water were several crops of bright tan rock, some quite short, some incredibly tall. The largest of them launched high up into the air, higher than any of the nearby mountains. It had a strange top, sticking to the right like a perch, and wrapped around it there was a collection of dark wooden buildings and staircases, landings and big open perches, and a dark, gloomy looking shrine, surrounded by grass and a few trees. Windmills spun on tall towers, and the sound of chimes permeated even to where they stood, a good distance from the village near the entry bridge. 

Revali watched Link stare up at it all, wide eyed, for a few seconds with a little smile in his eyes. He looked very proud of himself. But then he frowned, seeing Link’s (still shivering and bloody) hands point at the buildings in excitement. He held tighter to Revali’s hand, smiling again. 

“C’mon, we gotta get you warm, ‘member?” Revali scolded, tugging on his hand. “Then I can show you around.”

That was all the incentive Link needed to nod and follow along after him as they started across the first of many wooden bridges. The wood was quite thick, so he could not see the water below them, and there were several insignias painted intermittently in bright white. The sound of the chimes grew louder the closer they got to the village, and Link thought he might be able to hear voices.

Revali lead him along quietly, across the bridges and up a few flights of stairs until they were spiraling around the rock very quickly, going higher and higher. They passed what felt like dozens of huts, little shops and people’s homes, big landings and little ones, all pointing in different directions. Most of the Rito seemed to be in for the night, paying them little mind as they made their way higher and higher. Link looked around as much as he could, but he was very tired, and felt very strange, and not in a good sort of way. 

“Revali?” 

They ground to a sudden halt, and Link stumbled a little, grabbing onto Revali’s shoulder to try to stay on his feet. Someone above them had called down, an older sounding voice not too far away, and Revali had gone very still. Link followed his lead as best he could, holding a little tighter to his hand and trying to control his shivering. 

“What are you doing out this late?” the other person said, coming into the light. 

They were quite big for a Rito, Link thought (though to be fair, he had only just met one Rito, and that was Revali, who was obviously only about his age). Much taller than Revali, this stranger was a dark brown color, with an off white beak and owlish eyes watching them keenly. Despite the concern clear in his tone, he looked to be smiling a little. 

“I, um...I was...” Revali mumbled, voice small as he backed them up a step, pushing Link behind him and (mostly) out of view). “I...got lost...on the way back from...from...”

“Lost, eh?” the larger Rito said, and it sounded like he might have been smiling fully now. “Hmm...well, it seems you have found your way back now.”

Revali nodded fast. 

“I think it would be best to find yourself a nice warm fire, and perhaps a good potion to warm up, yes?”

Revali only nodded. Link stayed behind him, shaking a little. 

“Come along then,” the older Rito said with a wave of a dark brown wing as he turned around. “And bring your young friend with you.”

Revali went (if possible) even more rigid, but then sagged in defeat, hanging his head. “C’mon,” he mumbled to Link, tugging him along again. 

Link followed after him as before, holding very tightly to his hand and hiding behind him as they walked up the last flight or so of stairs. The Rito who had talked to them was very big. He wondered if this was the elder Revali had mentioned before. He hoped they weren’t in trouble...he didn’t want to go back yet...or ever...

“Now then,” the tall Rito said as they reached the very last of the huts branching out from the main rock. “It’s much warmer in here, isn’t it?”

He sat down opposite a rather large fire in the center of the room, waving for them to do the same. Revali hesitated in front of it, Link hiding behind him, face hidden and clinging to Revali’s hand. He didn’t want to come out if it meant he’d have to leave.

“It seems your friend is quite shy, Revali.”

Link held tighter to his hand. Revali was quiet. 

“Come out from there, little one,” the stranger continued calmly.

Link peered out from behind Revali, eyes wide as he stared at the Rito across the fire. Something shifted in the stranger’s expression, something saddened a little. He waved for Link to come out, but he shook his head, holding tighter to Revali and hiding his face once more.

“Oh, come now, it isn’t too bad out here,” the stranger said gently. “You must be cold, yes?”

“Link doesn’t talk,” Revali blurted out, and the older Rito looked over at him. “He does the...the hand talking that we learned before...”

“Ah, I see. Rather timely that you learned some then.”

Revali nodded. Link stayed where he was. 

“Well, Link,” the older Rito said, turning to look again at him where he had again shown his face from behind Revali. “I’m going to go find something good and sweet to eat. Maybe even a healing potion. I expect I’ll be gone for a good five or so minutes. Plenty of time to warm yourself up, if you’d like.”

With that the stranger stood, walking carefully out of the room. Revali sighed in relief, watching him go before looking back at Link. 

“I thought he was really gonna be mad,” he said, sounding as relieved as he looked. He wandered closer to the fire, and Link followed. “He’s right though, it is warmer in here.”

Link nodded, moving out a little, closer to the warmth. He was still shivering, and everything was starting to hurt again. Revali plopped down on the ground, and Link mirrored the action, scooting closer to the fire and holding his shaking hands up to it. They were still a little numb, and purple at the fingertips. The cuts from before had started bleeding again. 

“The elder is nice,” Revali said after a moment, looking toward where the older Rito had disappeared to. “I don’t think he’ll make you go back...unless you want to—”

Link shook his head furiously, looking quickly over at Revali with a frantic expression. He didn’t want to go back. His father would only send him back there, and no one liked him there,  _ clearly.  _ No, no, he would much rather stay here, he didn’t want to—

“Okay, okay,” Revali said, trying to calm him down. “You can stay then, I’m sure.”

He relaxed a little, signing a quick  _ “Thank you,”  _ without thinking much of it and staring at the fire again.  _ “I’m sorry...” _

“Are you hurt there too?” Revali asked, sounding worried. 

Link shook his head, confused for a moment. Then he understood and shook his head again, getting Revali’s attention.  _ “S-O-R-R-Y,”  _ he spelled slowly. 

“Sorry?”

Link nodded, repeating the sign for the word and then spelling it. 

“That means sorry.”

Another nod. 

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s not your fault you got hurt.”

Link shrugged, looking at the fire and pulling his legs up to his chest. He wasn’t so sure about that. His father would certainly blame him. The others would too. He was always doing something wrong...always giving someone some reason to be upset with him, but he could never figure out just what it was he had done. Still, he couldn’t seem to make any friends, and his father was almost always upset with him. 

“Maybe...” Revali hesitated, picking at his scarf and avoiding Link’s eyes. He almost looked nervous. “Maybe once your hands are better, you can show me some of the signs? It’s better to talk if I know what you’re saying...”

Link stared for a moment, a little surprised. Revali wanted to learn? But... _ no one  _ wanted to talk to him, let alone learn what he was saying...everyone just sort of...ignored him. No one had ever asked what he was trying to say to them. If they didn’t know it, they didn’t care. They just left him to wander around on his own. Unless they were bored, then...

But Revali wasn’t like that at all. He had met Link only a few hours ago, had saved him from an ice talus, saved him from freezing to death on that mountain, snuck him into Rito Village, and now wanted to learn some of the signs he used. 

This was the closest thing Link had ever had to...friends. 

“Unless you don’t want to, then—”

Link shook his head again, and then nodded urgently, cutting Revali off.  

He stared at Link for several seconds. “You do want to?”

Link nodded very quickly again. 

“Oh,” Revali said quietly, and he almost smiled. “Okay...good.”

They sat quietly together for a moment or so, the only sounds the crackling fire and the wind blowing around them. It wasn’t nearly as cold of a wind as it had been on the mountain, and the chimes all around made it almost sound like music. Revali hummed a little tune without noticing, picking at his scarf and staring out into the wind. Link watched him, wrapping his arms around his legs again and trying to ignore the stinging from the cut in his side, the aching everywhere else. 

The sound of footsteps returned, and the elder reappeared in the doorway. Link startled, panicking a little and fighting the urge to hide again behind Revali. Seeming to notice this, Revali grabbed his hand again, holding it tightly. It did the trick, as Link looked over at him distractedly for a moment, giving the elder plenty of time to come back into the room. 

Link wasn’t really sure why he was scared right now. He knew the elder wasn’t going to hurt him. Still, adults meant he would have to go back there, and...he didn’t want to go back. Nobody liked him there. Nobody talked to him. They only...

“Well now,” the elder said, his voice very quiet. “It seems you were hiding more wounds than I thought, little one. But no matter. A drink of this, and you’ll be better in no time.”

He sat back down where he had been before, putting a little red bottle down on the ground, as well as a handful of strange little berries that Link thought might look familiar. The red drink...that must have been the healing potion...the one Revali said made your head feel fuzzy. He stared at it warily. 

“That should fix your hands up just fine,” the elder said, waving for him to take it. “I promise it doesn’t taste too bad. And you can have those berries when you’re done, if you’d like.”

He frowned a bit, squirming for a moment before taking the little bottle in defeat. He had one of these before, he was sure, but he couldn’t remember when exactly. It felt like a long time ago. Of course, it didn’t matter much for right now. Pulling the cork out of the top, he drank the strange potion quickly, thinking it would taste like the medicine his father made him take when he was sick. He  _ hated  _ that stuff. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t taste that bad. It was strangely warm, and tasted sweet, but he wasn’t sure exactly  _ how.  _ He decided it wasn’t really important, though, because it did make him feel better, almost right away. Even as he put the bottle down, he could tell his hands were better. He fiddled with his fingers for a moment like a test, and sure enough they were leagues better than moments ago. Not as stingy, and they weren’t purple or bleeding anymore. 

“See? Works wonders,” the elder said with a half smile that quickly faded away. “Now...feeling better?”

Link nodded a little, not meeting his eyes. He pulled his legs back up to his chest and watched the fire. 

“Good. I would like to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay.”

Hesitating for only a moment (long enough to cast a furtive glance toward Revali, who looked perfectly fine, so nothing was amiss) Link gave another small nod. 

“How did you end up in Hebra?”

He squirmed for a moment, keeping his eyes on his lap.  _ “Ran away,”  _ he signed quickly, hiding his hands. 

The elder hummed. “And why did you run away?”

He shook his head, looking distressed. This seemed to set off Revali, who puffed up much bigger than he was and said in a very loud, stern voice, “You can’t send him back!” 

“Revali—”

But Revali didn’t stop. If anything, he got louder. “They hurt him!” he said, pointing at Link and shaking his head again. “That’s why he ran away, cause they—he doesn’t have to—”

“Revali!” the elder said a little louder, hardly even a shout, but Revali went silent. “I’m not going to send your friend anywhere. But I must know what happened, and from  _ him.” _ He turned back to Link, who was staring at Revali with wide eyes. “Now. Why did you run away?”

Still, Link hesitated, picking at the frayed threads at the end of his sock.  _ “Hurt,”  _ he signed after a moment, pausing again and trying to control his breathing.  _ “Didn’t want to stay. I was...scared.” _

“And so you ran,” the elder finished, and Link nodded a bit. “What happened after that?”

Link fidgeted, looking uncomfortable.  _ “Climbed the mountain,”  _ he signed shortly, wanting to get it all out before he lost the confidence to.  _ “Got lost. Cold. I slipped. Then—”  _ he pointed at Revali.  _ “Ice talus. Saved me. Ran away. Too cold. Came here.” _

“Oh ho, an ice talus,” the elder said with a half a smile, glancing over at Revali. “You  _ were _ far up the mountain then. Climbing so far for someone your size is quite the accomplishment, young one.”

“Is that why your hands were bleeding?” Revali asked, looking at Link with an almost worried expression. 

Link only nodded, sniffling and pulling at his sock again. 

“Bare handed climbing is a mean feat, particularly in Hebra,” the older Rito went on, sounding thoughtful. “The mountains are almost entirely ice, and what  _ is _ rock is covered in snow. It’s no wonder you tore your hands up a little. But you fared well, given the blizzard brewing out there. Few could have braved it and come out mostly unscathed.”

Link only sniffled again. He was good at climbing, like he was good with a sword. Both things were not allowed by his father. So being good at them was basically a mistake, as a lot of things he was good at seemed to be...

And being good at things usually added another thing his father was likely going to scold him for, when he inevitably was returned to him. 

“Elder?”

“What is it, Revali?”

The young Rito glanced over at Link quickly, that out of character hesitance back once more. “Can...” he paused, fiddling with the end of his scarf and looking at the elder. “Link doesn’t have to go...does he?”

For a fraction of a second, the elder’s eyes flicked over to Link, who was still looking stubbornly at the floor. With something close to a sigh, the elder said, “No, Revali. Not just yet.”

“So he can stay?” Revali asked, sounding very close to excited about the idea. Link looked over at him. “He can stay in Rito?”

“I’m certainly not going to send him to the stable at this time of night, no.”

Revali beamed, looking excitedly over at Link. “See? Told you.”

Link only watched him, nervously fidgeting with his hands. Staying in Rito didn’t sound too bad, but he wasn’t sure how long it could possibly last...or what his father was going to do when he inevitably found him. 

“I’m sure you are both tired from your little journey,” the elder said, drawing their attention once more. “Revali, why don’t you take your young friend someplace to sleep. I’m sure there will be room in one of the roosts.”

Revali nodded earnestly, grabbing Link by the hand and pulling him quickly to his feet. “C’mon! I can show you where I sleep!”

With that, he dragged Link away again, but Link could follow much better now that every fiber of his being wasn’t painful or frostbitten. He kept up with Revali easily, holding tightly to his hand and trying to distract himself from the darkness in his thoughts. As they spiraled down the staircases again, he looked around with eager eyes, wondering at where Revali was taking him. The village had gotten even quieter in the time that they had spent talking to the elder, with most of its occupants long asleep or starting guard patrols. 

They circled the large rock only a few times before Revali slowed, leading Link into one of the small huts that was mostly empty. He hadn’t even looked at it as they had passed when the elder caught them. It was dark, and quite small, a little lonely if he was honest. Still, he followed Revali inside, pausing as he did in the middle of the room. 

“Hmm...Ina must still be gone,” Revali said quietly, glancing out toward the entrance of the village, far below them. “Do you know how to start a fire?”

Link nodded, and Revali wandered over to a little set of drawers, pulling out some flint for the pile of wood already set in the center and handing it over. He watched curiously as Link got to work, getting the fire going with surprising speed, for one so young. It was not as large as the one in the elder’s roost, but it was enough to warm the little hut to a comfortable temperature, giving enough light for Link to be able to see the full room. 

It wasn’t as barren as it had seemed at first. There was a hammock strung up against the farthest side, looking out toward deeper Tabantha. Beside the set of drawers where Revali had taken the flint, there were several bits of smaller furniture, presumably for clothes and other such things. There were tools for wood carving tossed all around, as well as several different bows, all in varying states of construction. 

Link peered at them curiously, and Revali followed his gaze. “Oh...I’m trying to make a better bow,” he said, sounding oddly shy. “The ones we have are all wrong. Some are too heavy, so you can’t fly with ‘em, or too light, so they don’t fire very well. I’m trying to fix some of ‘em so they work better.”

Link picked one of the bows up, looking closely at it. Revali came over too, fidgeting with the end of his scarf. 

“You ever shot a bow before?” he asked after a pause. 

Link shook his head. 

“That’s basically all Rito use for fighting. Hylians use swords right?”

He nodded, a little more enthusiastically, pointing to himself. 

“You like swords?”

For simplicity’s sake, he nodded. He was good with a sword, that much he had been told thousands of times by other people. It wasn’t necessarily that he liked them, it was more one of those things he just knew how to do. He could climb, and find his way around Hyrule (mostly), and get along with wild horses, and see the strange little tree creatures no one else talked about. And he could handle a sword with ease. 

“How old are you anyway?” Revali asked curiously. 

Link held up a hand, all of his fingers extended. 

“Really? Me too. You’re small.”

He shrugged, then nodded. 

“You’re Hylian though. Maybe that’s why.”

He only shrugged again, yawning and rubbing at his eyes tiredly. Revali watched him with interest before glancing around. 

“Guess it is pretty late,” he said, sounding almost disappointed. But he only shook his head, pulling off his scarf and tossing it on the small dresser. He wandered over to the hammock strung up on the opposite side of the room, pulling himself up quickly as Link trailed after him. “Hope you don’t mind sharing.”

Link shook his head adamantly, and Revali smiled, sticking out his hand to help him up. With some effort, and a healthy dose of squirming and struggling, he managed to drag Link up into the hammock, which swung back and forth with the force of their struggle. Link found himself again clinging to Revali, who laughed and tried to stop it before giving up and letting it swing to a stop, still laughing. 

As it slowed to a stop, and Link decidedly did  _ not  _ let go of Revali, he sighed again, fake annoyed. Still, he didn’t push him away, and that was all the permission Link needed to continue to burrow into his side, feeling sleepy and warm. 

They both went quiet for a few minutes. He thought Revali might have fallen asleep already, if it weren’t for—

“Link?”

He looked up for a moment, but Revali was looking somewhere else. His movement seemed to be enough of a reply, though. 

“We’re friends, right?” 

Link nodded right away. 

“Good...” Revali said quietly, sounding tired suddenly. “I’ve never had a friend before...”

_ Me either,  _ thought Link, but he only held tighter to Revali in response, and they fell quiet once more. 

Within two minutes, both of them were out, holding tightly to each other and sleeping calmly for once. 

******

“We’ll have to start in Goron City,” Zelda said airily, looking at the map she held in both hands. “It is the closest, and the most despicable to get to...Daruk has finally gotten Vah Rudania to move, and I would like to see how he’s managed it, given the complexities of the machinery.”

Link said nothing, eyes fixed on Epona’s saddle as he adjusted it back to its proper position. Jumping off of her in such an improper manner had thrown everything off, and although Epona never seemed to mind these things, he wasn’t about to start a long ride with her all distressed. He snuck her another apple with his free hand and tightened the last of the buckles. 

That task completed, he peered around Epona at the princess’ horse, who was eating a weed from the ground and completely ignoring its rider. The princess was not an experienced rider, and the horse given to her was as wild and distrustful as they came. It made quick escapes like their last run off particularly difficult. Zelda could barely control the panicked horse when it was calm, let alone when they were being chased by dozens of monsters.

Unsurprisingly, the poor horse was quite a mess as well, his reins all tangled and saddle hanging awkwardly off to the right side. Zelda had dismounted as soon as they were safe, righting the equipment enough to get her map and slate out and then leaving the horse to do as he pleased. Apparently, what he pleased was to eat the weeds growing up from the side of the path. 

Link held back a sigh, taking another apple from his own pack and walking over to the horse. He looked up at him warily as he approached, but upon seeing the treat, the horse abandoned his nasty snack and came over without issue. Link gave him the apple and quickly righted his saddle while he was distracted. Satisfied, Link nodded once before returning to Epona. 

“We could of course start elsewhere,” Zelda went on, bright eyes still focused entirely on the map she held. She spun it around, looking at it from another angle. “Mipha has Vah Ruta working at almost peak capacity, and it has been quite some time since I have visited Urbosa...”

Again, Link offered no reply, giving Epona another apple and picking the grass from her mane. He knew the princess was not so much talking to him as filling the air to stifle the awkwardness. She had no desire to talk to Link. She had made that  _ abundantly  _ clear. So he let her talk to nothing, watching for further threats and making sure their horses were in no need of assistance. 

Wincing slightly at the pain in his arm, Link pulled away from Epona, struggling to look more closely at the wound there. A lizalfos had made a lucky swipe at him as he had pushed Zelda out of the way, nicking him in the arm with its spiked boomerang. In the haste of their retreat, he had almost completely forgotten about the cut. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t that bad. Just a scratch really. But it had gotten blood all over his shirt and arm, making it look much worse than it was. Sighing quietly through his nose, he sat down on the ground next to Epona, getting to work cleaning the blood from his arm. 

Zelda turned the map once more in her hands. “Hmm...or perhaps we ought to visit Rito Village...”

Link went rigid. 

“Revali should have made progress with Vah Medoh by now,” she went on without issue, still looking at her map. “Given his skills I should think he would have the beast responding to at least a few of his commands. Although he  _ completely _ refuses to answer any of the letters I have sent him...”

Link smiled a little at that, going back to cleaning his arm. The Rito had told him in several letters that he would not answer the princess when she “continually behaves like a spoiled child, and writes like one who thinks the reader is a complete fool.” Besides, if Revali never answered Zelda’s letters, then she would  _ have  _ to go to Rito. Which meant  _ Link  _ would have to go to Rito. 

It was a fantastic plan, really. 

“Rito is not as perilous a journey as Goron City,” Zelda continued thoughtfully, turning the map  _ again  _ in her hands. “It would certainly be more pleasant...”

She gave a frustrated huff, folding the parchment up and shoving it back into her pack. Only then did she look up at Link, who avoided her gaze as he started to bandage his arm. Her expression softened a little, and she frowned, looking away into the distance. 

“Have you heard  _ anything  _ from Revali?” she asked after a moment’s pause. 

Link looked up at her, hiding his conflict behind his usual mask of neutrality. He had of course heard from Revali—with the same amount of frequency as he had for years. They kept a surprisingly good correspondence, for how busy the two of them were with their own individual lives. Just a few days ago he had sent his last letter off, telling all about the last week or two of their travels. He expected a reply by week’s end. Revali was always prompt with his letters. 

Despite that, they rarely talked about their duties to this task unless they had to. It was some kind of unspoken agreement between them. Don’t bring up the inevitable end of the world, and their individual roles in it. They heard enough about it elsewhere. 

“You two are...close,” Zelda went on awkwardly, still staring at him with that analytical gaze usually reserved for broken down Guardians and her experiments. “Surely he has mentioned  _ something _ to you about the Divine Beast.”

Link shook his head slowly. He hadn’t. That was honest. He raised his hands to sign something to her, then paused, looking away toward the west. 

Zelda sighed, pushing herself to her feet and looking around as Link went back to bandaging his arm. 

“Well...then we’ll have to go to Rito Village.”

Traveling to Rito was never very difficult. The paths there were nowhere near as treacherous as the paths to Goron City or Zora’s Domain, and the monsters along the way were almost always less powerful. Carts and plenty of foot traffic had made certain that the way was nearly as clear and flattened as the path to Hyrule Castle, and just as well used. They passed several groups of travelers on the way, big and small, Hylians and a few people of the other races, all gawking at them as they moved past. 

Zelda occasionally spoke to them. Link just hurried Epona ahead, his usual mask slipping too easily into place. He focused on the road, on the paths he knew like the back of his hand, and the person waiting at the end of that path. 

He just had to make it to Rito, and then he could...just  _ be  _ for a while. Then he could escape these eyes from every direction. 

“I do love Tabantha,” Zelda mused at one point, as they came into the mountains. “The breeze is particularly refreshing.”

Link said nothing, eyes busy scanning the path ahead for threats. This area was slightly more problematic than the others, because of the mountains. Anything that wanted to attack them from above had the upper hand. And with Zelda’s track record on that horse, a quick getaway was out of the question. He had to be on his guard. 

“I hope to examine some of the shrines in this area as well,” she went on without notice, peering about with that keen, analytical gaze of hers. “According to the map, there are several nearby—”

A low, rising sound cut her off, and Link ground Epona to a sudden halt. In a delayed response, Zelda did the same, her horse protesting the move with a shake of its mane and a low grumble, but thankfully no other sound. 

Not that it really would have mattered. They were already spotted. 

The notching of an arrow was all the warning Link got before they were upon them, and he vaulted painfully off Epona in a (mostly) fluid motion. The first arrow, meant for him, missed its mark. Drawing the sword, he gave a harsh push to Zelda’s horse, and thankfully it took the hint, galloping further down the path and around the curve. The princess began to shout, but could not stop the wild steed from its course. Link turned quickly, scanning the mountains. 

A low screech-like snort came from the direction of the arrow, and Link cursed internally. Moblins. Likely many. And where there were moblins—

He turned quickly, pushing the smaller beast off of him where it had attempted to jump him. 

—there were bokoblins. 

Epona neighed loudly, kicking up on her back legs and stomping an unfortunate bokoblin who had gotten too close. Link would have smiled if he weren’t caught fighting three of them at once with no shield (and at least two moblins above, with arrows). One of them took a nasty swipe from his right, but he jumped out of the way, attacking it in a mad rush and only stopping when it burst into a cloud of purple smoke. But another only took its place. 

This wasn’t going to end well.

He glanced to Epona once as he threw another bokoblin off his back, dodging an arrow from the moblins above and rolling to the side. 

_ “Revali,”  _ he signed to her with one hand, and then shooed her off. 

Epona whinnied loudly, kicked at another bokoblin and then taking off, faster than even Zelda’s horse, in the direction of Rito Village. There was no time to wonder at her continued uncanny ability to understand him—not when more monsters were coming down from the mountain peaks. 

Link backed off from his original position, taking the path further back where it opened more, and losing the range of the moblins above him. Their roars of disapproval were quite loud, but he didn’t care. He only continued the fight, hacking, slashing, and dodging as many times as he could. At some point, he felt the wound in his arm reopen, not that he was surprised. The monsters undoubtedly got a few good hits in as well, but he couldn’t afford to stop and take stock. 

After what felt simultaneously like an eternity and a fraction of a second, the last of the bokoblins disappeared in a cloud of purple vapor and monster parts. The moblins in the mountains seemed to have forgotten him, their snorting and snuffling moving on and no longer audible. 

Good, too. Because Link likely couldn’t take much more of this. Fighting so many monsters at once with nothing but his sword was not something he enjoyed doing, and it always came at a price. That price today was several somewhat alarming gashes on his arms, one cutting into his side, and another in his leg. Like his wound the day before, they likely looked worse than they were. 

Of course, there were quite a few more wounds today than the day before. And this hurt a good deal more.

As the dust settled, Link limped his way further down the path, with the thought of finding some higher ground to make sure no more monsters lingered, maybe even see if the princess had made it to Rito or not. Knowing Zelda, she likely had, and was simply waiting for him to show up later, unconcerned. She might have even started her ridiculous berating of Revali about Vah Medoh, if she got the chance. 

At least Epona had gone to get someone...he thought, anyway, there was never really telling with his strange (and far too intelligent) horse. There was no way she would run off and not return for him eventually. He could wait for  _ her, _ at least, if no one else. 

One hand on the wound in his side, the other dragging the sword behind him, Link stumbled his way down the path, ignoring the pain beginning to set in. Through the haze of the setting sun, he made his way to the turn of the path and found he could go no further. He slumped to the ground in an unruly heap, sword coming to rest in his lap. He stared at it for several seconds before wiping at the gunk collected on its edge. It shone brightly at him then. He would have smiled, or perhaps found some means of reply, if he weren’t so desperately tired. 

Asking if he  _ heard  _ the sword. Ridiculous. 

It wasn’t as if its voice just projected out from it to all who could hear. As if any weapon made by a goddess would be foolish enough to broadcast its intentions in such a way. Maybe it had worked that way in the legends they were told, but things were different now, he found. The world changed, and his means of protecting it simply shifted along with it. Speaking to a sword in the manner she had apparently suggested would only make him look a fool. It was unnecessary and ineffective. 

He had a job to do, and the means with which to do it. That fate had been sealed the moment he pulled the sword from the pedestal years ago. Only at that point had he perhaps “heard” the sword, as she said. At every other point during which it rested on his back (or particularly when in battle) it was less a conversation and more a constant, strange presence which he couldn’t properly describe. Watching him, guiding him, occasionally offering advice in the form of faint whispers and flashes of that blue glow when enemies came near. 

An ancient voice it might have been, inside the sword, but its voice was audible only to one. He didn’t talk, and the sword did not expect him to (as others did). Therefore there was no need to reply. 

It was the same reason her continued shouting at the Goddess’ statues likely failed. Although he knew very little about prayer, really, and even less about the intentions of the deity handing them their fates. All he knew was his sword, and the end to which it lead. Still, he knew that her shouting at the Goddess was gaining her no ground. Neither was berating him at every turn, but that was a whole different problem. 

He was getting sidetracked in petty conversation, though, and it did him no good at the moment. Painfully, he replaced the sword in its scabbard and turned his gaze to his right, toward Rito Village. His head felt funny. Not a good sign. It would be best to keep moving in the direction of help. He knew that. But he found he could hardly fathom the thought of getting to his feet again. Not when the cut on his leg was  _ finally  _ a little forgettable now that he was sitting on the ground. The one in his side and the many on his arms were not as merciful, but he could manage the pain for now. 

He was unfortunately good at managing pain. Too much experience with that. 

For a moment, he allowed his usual facade to crack, and he sank a little into his slumped position, looking wearily at the blood soaking into his clothes. That was going to take hours to get out. Why on earth they had chosen such a garish shade of blue for their Champion gear, he would never know. 

He hated the color, really. 

The sound of approaching footsteps suddenly thundered around him, and with effort, Link managed to push himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the cliff wall next to him. No—wait a moment now...that was a horse approaching...which meant either Epona was returning, or—

“Link!”

Ah, both.

Revali landed just as Epona rounded the bend, and Link looked up at him calmly. Well, as calmly as someone could when they lost a great deal of blood and were suddenly very sleepy...this was not good. Blinking blearily at the suddenly too bright light, he struggled to focus his gaze on the Rito quickly approaching. 

“...self sacrificing, foolish,  _ idiot,”  _ Revali was muttering worriedly as he ran to him. He looked him over with a panicked expression, unsure just what to do. “Lucky your beast is more intelligent than you—”

Epona made a low sound, pawing at the ground with a hoof. 

“Oh, stay out of this,” Revali snapped, and Epona huffed, sniffing at Link’s head and ignoring the Rito entirely. Both of them seemed to come to the same conclusion, as Epona nickered nervously and Revali looked grave. “We have to get you to the village.”

Link hummed, and lost his footing right about then. Revali caught him easily, holding him up gently and looking back toward the path. That sleepiness from before was starting to creep up, and now that he was in safer company, his body seemed satisfied to just drift off...

_ “Link,”  _ Revali’s voice broke through the haze once more, and Link struggled to look up at him as Revali shook him a little. “You can’t sleep just yet. Stay awake a little longer, alright?”

He nodded weakly and tried to summon some kind of energy. Still, he was barely keeping his eyes open, and he felt very off. Revali huffed, lifting him into his arms with surprising ease and turning down the path. 

“I don’t suppose you could tell me what happened?” Revali asked after a moment of silence. 

Link hummed again, leaning his head on Revali’s shoulder.  _ “Too many,”  _ he signed loosely before wincing at the pain in his arm and giving up communication entirely. 

“Alright, no more of that then,” Revali scolded, picking up the pace. “We can talk about it later. We only need to get you to Rito and you’ll be just fine.”

Link offered no reply, not that Revali minded. He hurried along, Epona following behind, and Link holding tightly to his arm, resting his head on Revali’s shoulder. They were not far from the village, but the journey seemed to take much longer than normal. Revali talked on and on about seemingly random things, perhaps trying to help Link stay awake as they went, glancing down at him worriedly every few moments. 

It was a losing battle to stay awake, though, because at some point he nodded off, slipping into unconsciousness still holding onto Revali. 

The next time he was aware of anything, he found himself laying on something quite soft, most of the pain from before long gone, leaving him oddly warm and a little sore. They must have given him a potion...he felt very...floaty, like everything was just a little distant from him. He was about half awake, enough to tell they  _ had  _ in fact made it to Rito Village, judging by the sound of chimes. 

Well. That and Revali’s very loud shouting, which faded in as he regained consciousness. 

“—running off at the first opportunity, leaving him to fend  _ completely  _ for himself, and not even bothering to warn the village that there had been an attack!” he shouted, his anger clear in the cold tone of his voice. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to him? Your appointed knight he may be, but that does not mean he’s your shield and nothing else.”

Link winced as the pain began to come back to him, and as he realized who Revali was certainly shouting at. He was going to get himself thrown out...

“As soon as they attacked, he sent me off, as I have  _ told  _ you several times now,” Zelda replied stiffly, her own anger clear. The amount of times Link had heard that tone... “I assumed he would handle it and follow after, as he has before—”

_ “Before?!”  _ Revali spat, and Link could imagine him throwing his arms up and pacing, as he always did. “You’ve left him like this before! What on  _ earth  _ is the matter with you?”

“I can hardly offer him any useful help,” Zelda fought back, her voice high and airy. “I’m not a fighter.”

“But you could  _ get _ help, rather than wandering the village pestering about Divine Beasts while your knight bleeds to death in Tabantha. You left him without any chance of aid from anyone!”

Zelda sighed. “He is more than capable of handling himself, Revali—”

“Capable, yes, but you don’t just leave him to die for you! What could have happened if he hadn’t managed to kill them all—if I hadn’t found him when I did? He was barely on his feet by the time I got there!”

There was a heavy pause. “I did not expect him to be as wounded as he was. It has never been this bad before—”

“Well it  _ is,  _ and it certainly isn’t  _ his  _ fault,” Revali cut her off with finality, and Zelda surprisingly stopped speaking. “Now get out. Do what you must with Medoh tomorrow. I don’t want to see you anywhere near here.”

She must have taken it as the dismissal it was, because there was the soft sound of her retreating footsteps, and then quiet. Link opened his eyes blearily, trying to blink away the spots in his vision. He found himself staring at a familiarly designed wood ceiling. Definitely Rito Village, then. As his thoughts slowly sorted themselves out, he wondered briefly how long they could stay, now that he was injured and Zelda was scolded. Maybe a few days...

“Link?” Revali said suddenly, his voice very quiet (and completely different from how he had just spoken to Zelda). He came over as Link rubbed at his eyes with his good hand, wincing at the movement and the fog of his thoughts. “You’re finally awake. That’s good.”

He dropped down into a chair next to the cot as Link foolishly tried to sit up. Shaking his head, Revali pushed him back down with one hand, holding him in place. They struggled for a moment, but Revali wasn’t giving up no matter how Link wriggled for movement. 

“You’re only going to make it worse, and you know it,” he said flatly. “Stay still.”

Link glared at him for a moment before giving up, staring at the ceiling in silence. 

“That cut in your side is going to take longer than the others to heal,” Revali explained, watching quietly as Link continued to stare at the ceiling. “You need to lie still for a while, and let the potion run its course.”

He offered no reply beyond a short nod, eyes falling closed for a moment as he tried to settle his wayward thoughts. Night had fallen fully now, crickets chirping and fireflies gathering around the lanterns he could just make out on the posts outside the hut they were in. They seemed to be near the center of the village, not too far from where Revali’s old home was, until he had moved out to the Flight Range a few years back. Link had never been in this section of the village, only passed it occasionally before going up to see Revali, or down to one of their other haunts. 

“You always find a way to injure yourself, somehow,” Revali said after a pause, and Link looked over at him. He was looking out into the night, roughly in the direction of Hebra. “I really don’t understand how you have such terrible luck with this sort of thing.”

Link watched him quietly, unsure what to say. There was a weariness to Revali’s tone that he wasn’t accustomed to, alongside a worry that he was fast becoming acquainted with. It showed up every time something like this happened—every time they saw each other and Link came back more scarred than the last time, or on the off occasion they saw battle together, because Link was always the one to jump between another and a hit they couldn’t take. He was always the one to be injured, if not the only one then certainly the worst. 

“Although, to be fair, you don’t exactly have the best in terms of help,” he went on flatly, glancing toward the door Zelda had disappeared through. He sighed, shaking his head again and fixing his hard stare on Link. “You’re strong, but you aren’t invincible, you know. Keep this sort of thing up and we’ll be burying you before Ganon even sniffs at return.”

_ “I’m sorry,”  _ Link signed, but Revali waved him off. 

“You’ve nothing to apologize for, don’t be ridiculous. Unfortunately, this is part of your duties, no matter how much I despise it...” he trailed off, looking Link over with worry. “Besides, you’ll be back on your feet in no time, knowing you. Another potion and a decent meal and you’ll be blasting bokoblins through the air like you always do.”

Link made a face, trying to picture exactly how he would manage to throw a bokoblin into the air, and Revali chuckled. “Now that I’ve said that you’ll certainly manage the feat somehow,” he said lightly. “Although...you might want to wait a few days for that kind of combat. I would prefer to keep you out of the infirmary for the rest of your time here, if possible.”

_ “Thank you,”  _ Link signed loosely.

“What on earth for?”

_ “Before. Found me. And...” _ he trailed off with a smirk.  _ “You yelled at her. That was good.” _

Revali huffed, but he was smiling a little as well. “I told you I would. I waited long enough, and you almost...someone had to tell her off for the way she treats you. If no one else will, then I suppose I’ll add it to my list of duties. She  _ needs _ to get told off occasionally.”

Link nodded a little.  _ “Still...not really her fault that I—” _

“End that thought before I end it for you,” Revali cut him off. “It  _ is _ her fault that no one came to help you sooner. She might not have made them attack you, but her foolishness certainly prevented anyone from reaching you before you were hurt.”

_ “...True,” _ Link signed after a pause.  _ “But you found me.” _

“Because of a  _ horse,”  _ Revali said, sounding disgusted, and drawing a breathy laugh from Link. He seemed surprised by the sound, and fell silent for a moment, watching Link with an odd little smile. “Imagine that—me, minding my own business at the Flight Range, practicing my gale, then here comes this  _ beast—” _

_ “She’s not a beast—” _

“—charging in and causing such a ruckus that I had no  _ choice _ but to follow her,” he finished with a half smirk. “Lucky she knew where you were, too...”

He trailed off again, a frown coming over his expression as the situation likely replayed in his mind. Link watched him quietly, once again unsure what to say. As the seconds dragged on into minutes, he reached slowly for Revali’s hand, not knowing what else to do. Their hands met and Revali looked up at him, some remnant of fear lingering in his eyes. Still, he took the peace offering for what it was, holding Link’s hand carefully in his own and giving it a squeeze. 

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he said hoarsely, his voice so low that only they could hear it, eyes fixed on their hands rather than Link. “I didn’t even know you were coming, and then your blasted horse shows up  _ alone,  _ and—” he cut off with a shake of his head, sighing before starting up again. “Then I find you and you’re  _ covered  _ in blood—”

He cut off again, shutting his eyes as if to block out the image of it all. For a moment, the only sound was the chimes around the village, the distant voices of others, and the wind. Not that Link cared for any of those things then. All of his attention was fixed on Revali, and the way his hand was shaking, just a touch, in his grip. 

Link wasn’t normally one to hesitate. Careful decision making was one thing, but he knew himself to be quite stubborn and more than reckless—most of the time he relied on his instincts, and those were usually right. He didn’t spend a lot of time thinking things over, trying to puzzle out plans or proper tactics. There was no need to plan in battle, beyond being prepared, and he was usually prepared for the worst. The fact of the matter was, he was a Hero short on time, and he knew it. The longer he waited around unsure what to do, the less time he had for the things (people) he loved. 

But for some reason, he found himself stuck for a moment then, watching Revali quietly as the silence stretched out once more between them. There was a heaviness in his chest, a sinking, dragging feeling that he hated. Guilt was probably the closest word for it, but it didn’t seem nearly strong enough to describe this horrible weight on him, making every breath feel like a marathon and every second feel like a year. And still, he just sat there, holding Revali’s hand and  _ hesitating  _ because he had no idea what to say or do to make this better. 

Frowning, he made up his mind then. To hell with it all. Time was short and he was not going to waste any more of it. 

Tightening his grip on Revali’s hand, he tugged him forward. Revali jolted at the sudden motion, muttering half a protest before Link jerked him forward again, dragging him awkwardly to his feet. 

“What are you—”

But he cut off as Link pulled him again, moving over at the same time and leaving an empty space on the cot. Revali went still, staring for a moment too long before he seemed to understand, and he shook his head. 

“Link, we aren’t children anymore, someone will—”

Link shook his head, tugging on his hand again, a determined hardness to his eyes, but also something close to a challenge. Revali fought against his grip, but Link was unrelenting, despite the soreness flaring up in his arm from the strain. 

“You’re injured,” Revali tried again in a scolding tone. “This is...uncalled for.”

Link gave him a flat look before pulling him an inch or so closer, more gently this time, eyes pleading. Revali stared at him for what seemed like an eon before looking up at the ceiling and giving an exasperated sigh, as if the whole ordeal had used up all of his energy. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, and Link beamed. “But  _ when  _ we are caught, I am blaming  _ you.” _

Glancing toward the doorway to the rest of the village, Revali sighed once more before giving in to Link’s continued pulling on his hand and flopping down next to him on the bed. Link immediately burrowed into his side, burying his face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder and wrapping his arms around him. Revali followed suit, pulling him a little closer carefully, trying not to jostle his numerous still healing wounds. 

They stayed like that for some time, quietly holding onto each other as the village slowly wound down for the night. Sometimes people would pass by the doorway, but none of them paid any mind to the two of them crammed onto the infirmary’s small cot, holding tightly to each other as if they would disappear the moment one of them let go. After an indeterminate amount of time, Revali started humming some familiar melody, one hand running lazily through Link’s hair while the other worried at the bandage on his arm. Link shut his eyes and let himself be carried off by it all briefly, taking the moment as it came for once. 

“Love you,” he mumbled, voice thick and cracking. 

Still, Revali froze, going completely still for a fraction of a second at the quiet confession. He tightened his hold on Link for a moment, keeping him in place and close by, like he thought he would try to run off. Then he sighed, whether out of relief or annoyance Link couldn’t say (and didn’t particularly care). But his voice was quite soft when he did speak, in a tone that very few people other than Link ever heard. 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be the long boi. Hope you enjoyed. More soon(?) hopefully lol, I am so slow. Thanks for reading!


	8. Impa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there. Man, this place hasn't changed a bit. You get a haircut? It looks good...  
> I'm real sorry this took so long. My muse is a picky lil bitch, and she takes her sweet time with writing. I honestly did write a little of this every day, it just...took so long, and I really don't know why. But hey! It's here now! And the story is a-movin'! We finally made it to Impa, guys! It only took...eight chapters, wow. Pretty sure this story became sentient and is just going where it wants to go. I'm just along for the ride, honestly.  
> Anyway, thank you so much for your patience, and thank you for reading and commenting etc. It means the world to me, truly. I hope you enjoy, and I hope to have more for you guys soon...hopefully quicker than last time. Peace out.

**_None of that now..._ **

**_We’ll find each other somehow..._ **

**_You must rest now, Link..._ **

**_You need it as much as the others do..._ **

**_It will all come back to you..._ **

**_We’ll find a way..._ **

Awareness faded in with a crack of sunlight through a half shuttered window, a gentle breeze carrying the weak sound of village life, and the smell of something cooking nearby. As the fog shifted about in the morning haze, he laid still for a moment or two, holding onto the fading remnants of the voice haunting his dreams. If he could grasp it for just a second more...he could almost...imagine he was still there. He could almost feel someone next to him...

The door creaked as it was pushed open, swinging in on old hinges and filling the small house with even more light. Wincing, Link rubbed at his eyes tiredly, dragging himself into a sitting position as his thoughts reordered themselves a little more. Shuffling steps came to a quick halt, and he blinked through the bright light, trying to make out where exactly he was. 

“Ah, you are awake,” an older voice said from the doorway. 

Link went still, pulling his hands away from his face and staring at the figure shadowed in the doorway. An old woman puttered inside, closing the door quietly behind her and offering him a small smile. She was quite short, her hair completely white but eyes bright and cheery. She didn’t seem bothered by his staring, that small smile lingering in her expression even as they stared at each other for a few seconds too long. 

“A good day’s sleep ought to have fixed you up just as well,” she said happily, making her way carefully over to him and setting down the bag she carried. “You gave the village quite a fright yesterday morning, I will say that. But don’t worry—my granddaughter and I managed to get most of the prying eyes out of the way. Only the elder and the guards know you’re here.”

She began to unload the bag onto the small table across the one room house from the bed, piling her loot onto the table. It looked like a tremendous amount of carrots and...pumpkins? Link watched her curiously, until the smell of something very delicious distracted him. 

The old woman smiled again as his stomach grumbled loudly. “Come along then,” she said, waving him over to the table. “Plenty of food to go around.”

Face burning with embarrassment, Link shuffled out of the small bed he had woken up in and over to the old woman at the table. She handed him one of the pumpkins and a wooden spoon, waving him over to the table. He slumped into a seat and stared down at the gourd, which was filled nearly to the brim with something that smelled deliciously close to stew. This was a familiar smell. Hesitating for just a while longer as he tried to sort his thoughts out, Link ended up staring at the stew for a moment too long, and the old woman laughed. 

“It isn’t poisoned, young one,” she said lightly, shaking her head at his dazed confusion. “Eat. You will feel better.”

He nodded numbly, offered a hasty, _“Thank you,”_ and got to it. 

Whatever was inside that pumpkin (definitely stew, something he had before, although as usual he had no clue where that conviction came from) was delicious, particularly compared to the sparse pickings he had been finding for himself in the past few days. Apples and mushrooms were great, but they were by no means a hearty meal, and he had somehow missed something he hadn’t eaten in over a hundred years. But he brushed the thought aside before it could really upset him. It wasn’t worth the energy just yet. 

The old woman introduced herself as Nanna, then resumed her puttering about the small house, putting things away and tidying up. At one point she stood for several seconds, staring at his haggard appearance with a weary expression before shaking her head and going about her business. 

“I took the liberty of having some proper clothing made for you,” she said some time later, dropping a wrapped bundle onto the table as he finished scooping every last morsel out of the pumpkin. “Can’t have you running about in nothing more than that. You’ll freeze if you go high enough up, and you’ll find your sorry clothes shredded in the first real fight you see. These are much better suited for you.” She patted the bundle for emphasis, then frowned at Link’s expression. “And no complaining about paying. My niece owns the shop, and you haven’t got any money. Worry about that nonsense some other time. Besides, these are hardly anything special.”

Waving her hand dismissively at his attempts to protest, Nanna disappeared outside to let him change. He sighed, shaking his head before turning back to the clothes. She was right, of course, and he had planned on finding some proper gear...but then he got...distracted, he supposed, and every plan had left him with the change in the wind. He seemed prone to falling apart at any moment (even now he still felt shaken and somewhat empty, the blanks in his memories gaping and unbearable). It was all he could do to keep walking in the direction he was told and hope for the best. 

That had lead him to collapsing in the middle of the village, though, and he wasn’t fool enough to not see the problem with that. He hadn’t been thinking straight (hadn’t been _thinking),_ all of his thoughts a mess and the memories never stopping for long enough to let him breathe through the pain of them. Everything had crashed down on him so _fast._

But he had seen Revali...talked to him, even...however they had managed that. And how had they done it? His world was by no means free of oddities, but even with his lack of knowledge, he knew such things weren’t _normal._ Zelda had the power of the Goddess—that was how she was able to speak to him from such a distance, and in the midst of her battle with Ganon. The king had been _dead._ That was how he had talked to him. 

Revali had no Goddess’ power. And yet...there he was, when Link dreamed, or when he needed him. How had he managed it? He was still trapped on Medoh, thousands of miles away, there was no possible way—unless he was—

He shook his head forcefully, cutting off his thoughts before they could become any more dangerous. His hands were shaking already, and he had just been standing here, holding a bundle of clothes and staring out the window like a fool. Now was not the time for this. He had to speak to Impa, had to continue onward if he had any hopes of getting Revali and everyone else out of their respective prisons. 

Pulling himself out of his reverie, he looked again at the clothes Nanna had given him. The tunic unrolled first, thick and warm in a dark shade of red. He slipped it on with ease, a little surprised at how well it fit, but he brushed it off. There were armor pieces to go along with it, brown leather, quite thick and durable, certainly superior to the...well, nothing...that he had been wearing before. He strapped them into place without worrying about how he remembered the way to do it. There was also a far superior set of pants and boots, which he took advantage of with great pleasure. He had already worn out the soles of the boots he dug up from the plateau, and he knew he wouldn’t last long without proper _shoes,_ at least. 

“Ah, much better,” Nanna said pleasantly as she wandered back inside, nodding at him as he finished tying his new boots. “There’s nothing like a new set of traveling clothes to make the whole week worth the trouble. Now! To business. I’ve set your things out for you over there,” she pointed to a set of drawers set against the back wall, where Link’s gear sat waiting. “It’s nearly midday. I would suggest if you want to speak to the Elder today, you make it soon. Impa likes to take an early dinner and spend the evening with her granddaughter—doesn’t take many visitors past dusk. There is a shrine at the top of the nearest peak, if you insist on seeking its trial before speaking to Impa, but you certainly don’t have to. Our Elder has missed you greatly, I think, and would love to see you now that you’ve gotten some of your strength back.”

Link nodded vaguely, looking out the window and picking at a frayed thread on the edge of his tunic. He only stopped when Nanna swatted his hands away. 

“None of that worrying, young man. You’ll ruin all your new clothes, and worrying gains you nothing and loses you everything.”

She hobbled past him, leaving him to stare after her confusedly. A very odd woman, that one. He shrugged it off though, and gathered his gear, strapping his worn out sword and nearly broken bow to his back and hooking the Sheikah Slate to his belt. 

It took a great deal more effort to ignore how _wrong_ this all felt, now that more of his memories were back. Nothing felt right, but this feeling about his gear was particularly unsettling, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He didn’t even _really_ know what he was missing—always this hollow empty feeling, this pull somewhere that wasn’t here. The sword was a burden, that he could feel in his core, but it was a part of him nonetheless, a part that was missing. 

There was more to it than that, but he couldn’t grasp it yet. Like so many things, it was just out of reach—close enough to hurt, but far enough to be an unsolvable problem. Particularly in the face of the massive list of unsolvable problems he had to deal with. 

With Nanna out of sight and finding himself once again alone, Link sighed, sagging a little as the weight of his duty came down hard on him. Each time he took a step forward, he remembered fifteen he had fallen behind. These memories, these moments, this _chance_ was a blessing, and he knew it, but the knowing it was a curse as much as it was a gift. He wouldn’t trade back what he had gained, but realizing all that he had lost only made the task set out before him that much more terrifying. 

Because if he had failed then, with all the world backing him...how could he possibly hope to succeed now?

Nanna reappeared in the doorway, distracting his thoughts of imminent doom. “Young man, if you brood for a moment longer, your face will stick that way. Now come along. I’ll show you where the elder lives.”

Nodding sheepishly, Link gathered the last of his belongings from the table and stepped back out into the light. The fog of the morning had receded, leaving the village gleaming in the bright sunlight, alive and bustling with activity. The thin paths were swollen with people going to the shops, or to the main road, or the inn. Most of them were clearly Hylian travelers, looking worn out but chipper, talking animatedly with those around them even as they eyed the horizon warily. 

Members of the Sheikah were mixed among them, some guards, others just simple villagers, but they stuck out from the Hylians with their white blond hair and far taller frames. Where the visitors to their village were clearly wandering about, ogling the buildings (and even the inhabitants), the Sheikah moved with purpose down the paths, going about their business as usual. They paid little mind to the crowds around them, weaving through them with an ease that came only with a life spent walking these same paths through similar haggles of visitors. 

Link watched them as he followed Nanna away from her small house up on the hill. Few of them looked their way, but those who did averted their eyes quickly, uninterested. He wondered if it was common for travelers to speak to the elder before leaving. 

The path opened up into the main square, if it could be called that. Truly, it was less a square and more a misshapen merging of the paths through the village. At the base of the hill, sunk deep into the surrounding mountains, the two paths out to the main roads and the one from the forest converged at the lowest point, fanning out into a large open area where the village centered. To their right was the drop off of the mountain, to their left, the trail out of town, behind them the statue of the Goddess and the shops, and right in front of them—

“That is the house of the elder,” Nanna said, pointing. 

Compared to the surrounding buildings, this house was massive. Like the rest, it shared a common, simple architecture, but it was set above the others in location as well as size. Surrounding the house were a set of small waterfalls, the sounds of which washed over the voices of the travelers and merchants nearby. A large set of wooden steps led up to the front doors, where Link could see a young woman wiping furiously at the ground. Two armed guards stood sentry by the archway leading to the stairs, their eyes set on the pair of them even now, as they stood a good distance away from them. 

Nanna turned back to Link, her warm smile still present on her thin face. “There you are then,” she said simply. “Impa is just up those steps and inside. The guards will let you pass, not to worry. Be a good boy now.”

She patted his cheek twice before turning back to the path and starting her slow ascent. He rubbed at his cheek, a curious frown drawn across his features. 

Such a strange woman. 

Shrugging it off, he looked again to the house above him. The rest of his journey, his one way to Revali, to all the others, lay up those steps. Impa would know what he had to do, would point him in the proper direction. At least...he hoped she would know what to do.

The guards stared as he walked up, but said nothing as he passed them, taking the steps slowly with his eyes still set on the double doors at the top. That empty feeling was creeping up on him once more, and he was trying to brush it aside. He had to focus now. He couldn’t afford another moment of weakness, not when he had already wasted so much time. He had to keep moving, had to know what to do and where to go for the next step of his journey. 

There would be time for weakness later. Right now, he had a job to do.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he paused, looking around for a moment and trying to center his thoughts. At least, until the woman scrubbing at the wood flooring noticed him, and gave a loud gasp, falling back onto her hands and clutching her rag to her chest. She had to be around his age, perhaps a year or two younger, with the long white hair and tanned skin of the Sheikah. Her hair was pulled up and away from her face, and her eyes were dark, and large on her thin face. She stared up at Link with something between fear and awe in her eyes, and he froze, watching her curiously for a moment. 

Seeming to catch herself staring, she gave a little shriek and put her head in her hands for a moment before shaking her head and rising shakily to her feet. She peered out from between her fingers, trembling a little, wide eyed.

“Y-y-you—y-y-y-you a-a-are—” she hid her face again. “I-I’m...s-s-s-sorry!”

Sorry? But she continued in a warbling voice before he could think to question her.

“Y-y-y-you m-m-must...b-be...here t-to s-s-see...g-grandm-m-mother...I—I-I-I’ll...I c-can...”

She trailed off, pulling her hands away from her face long enough to scoop the rag up off the ground where she dropped it and cast a furtive glance in his direction. 

“M-my—m-m-my n-name is...P-Pa...P-P-Paya...” she managed, worrying at the cloth in her hands and looking anywhere but at him. 

_“My name is Link,”_ he signed back without a thought. 

The motion must have caught her eye, because she looked up at him suddenly, wide eyed and stunned. For several seconds, all she did was stare, her fidgeting disappearing in favor of an eerie stillness. 

“Y-y-you...” she mumbled, and then dropped the rag she was still clinging to. _“You can sign?”_  

It was Link’s turn to gape now. While it was true that some people could understand him, he had met almost no one (that he could remember, anyway) who could (or perhaps would) sign back to him. The woman—Paya, he reminded himself—was a little hesitant in her gestures, but he got the sense it wasn’t because she didn’t know what she was doing. Based on the way she had been behaving since he walked up here, he would chalk her hesitance up to nervousness more than anything else. 

Shaking himself out of his daze as the silence dragged on just a hair too long, Link nodded quickly.

Paya sighed in what looked to be relief, shoulders dropping some from where she had drawn them up as she struggled to speak. _“I didn’t know you could,”_ she signed quickly, as if she couldn’t wait to get the words out. _“No one but Grandmother knows it, and she won’t allow me to sign to her. She says...”_ she paused for a moment, looking down. _“She says I should speak, since I am able to.”_

Link frowned. _“Able to?”_ he repeated back as Paya brought her eyes back to his. 

She nodded slowly and wrung her hands with a grimace. _“There’s nothing wrong with your voice, she says. Thinks I should...practice. She thinks it will...help, if she forces me to talk to people.”_

Link’s frown deepened, and he glanced toward the double doors leading inside. He was getting that feeling again, like an itch he couldn’t scratch, making him feel distant and strange. That meant only one thing. 

Something like this had happened before. And he didn’t like it one bit. 

_“There’s nothing wrong with mine either,”_ he signed before he could even realize he was doing it. _“My_ **_voice_ ** _works just fine. That’s not the...”_ he paused, shaking his head and staring off for a moment, trying to find the words. _“And forcing yourself to talk doesn’t work either, you just get...stuck.”_

His gaze went distant, and he got the hazy feeling of a memory just out of reach, but nothing came of it. He remained exactly where he was, standing feet from Impa’s door, with her granddaughter watching him nervously from a few feet away. Shaking his head slightly, he met her frantic gaze for a few seconds, unsure what to say or do. 

_“I’m sorry for that.”_

She shook her head rapidly. _“You’re right anyway. Grandmother means well, but she doesn’t understand...”_ her eyes widened suddenly. _“You’re meant to see her! You should go inside, she was very excited to hear you were awake.”_

Link nodded, and she waved him toward the door. Working up his courage, he gave her his thanks and pulled the double doors open. 

The inside of the hut-like house was dark, darker than Link had expected. Like Nanna’s house, it was simply decorated, with shaded windows and only a few paintings scattered about. On the wall to his left was a blurry painting of some green landscape, chunks of blackness scattered through it. He couldn’t make out what it was meant to depict. At the back of the room, there was an ornate, glowing orange ball, with Sheikah text scrawled across it in loops, resting in a pedestal. A large tapestry hung on the furthest wall, and two sets of stairs led up to the second floor.

However, catching his attention primarily was the old woman perched on a pile of cushions just next to the orb, looking up from under the brim of her large hat as the door opened. She was quite small, stooped over with age, but her eyes were bright and full of a quiet sort of energy. Her clothing was much like that of the rest of the Sheikah tribe, though hers designated her status as the elder, clearly, with the many Sheikah emblems attached to her wide brimmed hat. 

She regarded Link quietly for a moment before smiling a small smile and patting her knee. “So, you are finally awake,” she said quietly, her voice strangely high, sounding pleased. “It has been quite some time, young man. I was beginning to worry, but...”

She trailed off into silence, watching him where he stood a little rigidly in the doorway. An odd look crossed her face as the awkward pause continued unabated, almost weary, or perhaps sad. “Oh, my young friend,” she muttered, and Link confirmed her voice was indeed sad. “Purah had feared something like this would happen...”

Slightly confused, Link gave her a questioning look, but she only shook her head, the Sheikah emblems jangling on the brim of her hat. She waved him forward gently, and he finally pried himself from the doorway, letting it shut quietly behind him. 

“Have you lost it all then?” she asked quietly as he came to stand a few feet from her. “All of your memories?”

He hesitated, and then nodded. She tutted and gave him a somber look.

“I am Impa,” she said. “But I expect you have heard that much already. You have found us, so I know that you have been in at least decent hands. Though knowing Rhoam, he answered perhaps two of your questions and then sent you to me. Am I right?”

Link nodded sheepishly. Impa chuckled, and then sighed. 

“Foolish old man,” she grumbled lightheartedly before brushing it off and looking grave once again. “There’s more you must know, if you are to accept the fate you did in the past. One can no longer hand you a sword and send you off...not again. To do so would be terribly cruel. I will not do it. You must understand the gravity of the situation in order to accept your part in it. I won’t leave you in the dark. I will try to be as frank with you as possible. But first, you must understand what happened in the past. In _your_ past.”

She paused for a moment, eyes falling somewhere near the ground as she sighed, looking tired. When the elder returned her gaze to Link, she seemed a great deal older than she had when she smiled as he came in. 

“One hundred years ago,” she began hoarsely, and then paused, shaking her head slightly. “We sought to follow the path of our ancestors, to prevent the triumph of Calamity Ganon. For decades, his return had been prophesied by many, but the tales of our ancestors pasts had become legends, only stories to many of our people—even the Sheikah. However, as time went on, and the signs of the Calamity’s return became more clear, even the most stubborn of doubters could no longer deny what would come to pass. 

“We were told that within the millennia, the beast would rise from its bounds and wreak havoc on our world, consuming it. If we could not stop it, no one would survive. All of Hyrule would be destroyed. 

“When you were just a small child, the Hylian royal family and the Sheikah began to research the legends of our ancestors’ fight with the Calamity. The legend goes something like this. Ten thousand years ago, a team of warriors from across Hyrule fought Ganon, with the help of great Sheikah technology. Together they crafted a series of magnificent machines called Divine Beasts, of which we know four, one for each of the nations of Hyrule. Each was piloted by a warrior selected from one of these nations. The legends speak greatly of these Champions’ skill in combat, the fantastic powers of the Divine Beasts, and their strength against the Calamity. 

“They also created a series of autonomous weapons, known as Guardians, which were designed to protect the Hero and the Princess as they fulfilled their own duties. For you see, to defeat Ganon, our ancestors devised a cunning plan. They knew the might of the Divine Beasts they had created, but they knew Ganon was far more powerful. Even with the strength of the four known Beasts, Ganon would still be able to regenerate, and wreak havoc once more. It was only through the powers given by the Goddess that the Calamity could be sealed away for great periods of time. 

“Those powers were given to Hylia’s Chosen Hero, and to the Princess of Hyrule. Only they could _truly_ defeat Ganon. 

“But to have that chance, they needed the aid of the Divine Beasts, as well as the Guardians, in order to hold Calamity Ganon’s forces at bay. The Guardians were created to protect the Hero, as he was to protect the Princess, and the Divine Beasts were built to weaken Ganon so the Hero could deliver the final blow. Only the Sword That Seals the Darkness, the weapon created by the Goddess, could bring the Calamity low enough to be sealed away by the Princess. 

“And so, ten thousand years ago, our ancestors, with the help of all the four nations of Hyrule and the machines which they built, defeated Ganon and sealed the beast away for generations. The kingdom rejoiced, and fell into such an extended period of peace that soon, the stories of their victory became just that—stories. The Divine Beasts, the Guardians, and all the remnants of the great Sheikah technology were lost to the world, with only legends and prophecies left to remember them.”

Impa paused once more, turning to look at the tapestry hanging behind her. Link followed her gaze and saw what he assumed was a depiction of the battle she had described. 

At the center, a swirling pink and green fog-like monster lashed out at two figures, one clad in white with golden hair, the other in blue with a large sword. The pink beast was the Calamity, with a garishly drawn face and claw like fingers reaching. The white figure had to be the Princess, her painted hands outstretched toward the beast, a familiar triangular symbol glowing in front of her. On the opposite side, the figure in blue with the sword...well, he knew who _that_ was. 

Surrounding the pair at the center of the tapestry were hundreds of small, spider like creatures with single large eyes. He averted his gaze quickly from them. He knew what those were too, and he had no desire for a panic attack in the middle of the Sheikah elder’s home. 

_They were supposed to protect him. And they had—_

No. No, he wasn’t going to think about that now. He shook himself slightly, and looked at the rest of the tapestry for distraction. 

At each of the four corners, painted in different colors, were what Link assumed to be the Divine Beasts which Impa had mentioned. They were unlike any animals he had ever seen, though their shapes had the same distant familiarity that the phrase “Divine Beast” carried. Because he had known these machines, once, and had known a few of them quite well. 

In the top right corner, a beast greatly resembling a lizard crawled out, painted in bright red and deep brown. Its side was covered in fire, and the figure standing atop it was colored similarly, its rounded shape proudly pointing toward the beast at the center, as if signaling the attack. 

At the bottom right, an animal unlike Link had ever seen was drawn in soft blues and grays. It was short legged and quite rounded, with a long snout curled under its face. A proud figure stood at the top of its head, almost smiling as they looked toward the center of the tapestry. 

Across from it, at the bottom left, another strange beast stood. This one was painted in orange and brown, taller and thinner than the previous animal, but just as foreign. It had a long neck and two large humps on its back, upon which a tanned, long haired figure stood. They, like the figure at the top right, pointed toward the Calamity, though the turn of their painted brow suggested some other, stranger emotion. 

Finally, at the top left of the tapestry, in deep greens and browns, was the final beast. She was a large bird, wings stretching wide across her corner of the tapestry, long beak focused on the center of the image. Standing on her wing was a strange little figure with a pointed face, arms outstretched in a curious pose which Link could not recognize. 

That was Vah Medoh. The Beast which had risen first on the Great Plateau, screaming out as if she knew something was not right, as if she could sense the _wrongness_ plaguing her for a century. That was Revali’s Divine Beast. 

That was where he was currently trapped. 

“This old tapestry is all that most people knew, when you were small,” Impa said, and he turned his attention back to her. “But with the continued prophecies and the signs of the Calamity’s return, as I said, we began to search for the means to follow the example of our ancestors. We searched each of the nations for its Divine Beast, and the Princess began to train for her sacred duty. Just a year after our search began, we found you, and we had our Hero.

“It took years to find all the Beasts, and to bring them back into working order. We also uncovered the Guardians, and managed to get some of them back up and running as well. A Champion was chosen from each nation and given their Divine Beast, to learn and to control. By the time the Princess turned seventeen, all seemed to be falling into place...”

She trailed off, and looked weary once again. “But it was not to be,” she said, shaking her head. “We underestimated Ganon’s power, and for that, we paid dearly. He decimated the castle, and much of Central Hyrule, took control of the Divine Beasts, as well as the Guardians...we lost contact with the Champions almost immediately. When...when you fell, Zelda had you placed in the Shrine of Resurrection, in hopes that you would return in time to defeat the Calamity. And then...she went to face Ganon, all alone...

“However, before she went to meet her fate, she left a message for you, and some of your things,” with that, the old woman slowly pulled herself to her feet and got down from the mound of pillows she perched on. Her hat jangled as she waved Link to follow her over to the side of the room. “I have a feeling you already know a good deal of what you must do. Freeing the Divine Beasts from Ganon’s control is of absolute priority. And you must regain the Master Sword—your weapon given to you by the Goddess. With the Sword, and the Divine Beasts, I am certain you can defeat the Calamity...”

Link followed her as she walked slowly to the side of the room before kneeling down and pulling open a sliding cabinet hidden in the wall. Before taking out whatever it was she had to give him, she paused, and turned to look back at him for a moment. 

“Before I give these to you, I must offer you the choice we did not years ago. This is not a fate I wish upon you. Not again. You have lost so much to this already, and without a say in any of it. So I must ask you,” she paused, fixing him with a sad, yet intense stare. “Are you absolutely willing to accept this task before you, knowing that the details are unclear, that you may not survive, that the fate of our world would once again rest on your shoulders?”

A recognizable silence falls, and for several seconds, all Link can do is stare at the old woman before him. 

She offered him a choice—an honest choice—an option to turn away, to try to scrape together the remains of himself without this unbearable obligation to all of Hyrule. For the first time (and he knows it’s the first time someone has asked him deeply that it almost astounds him) he was being given the out. 

For a moment, he tried to imagine it. He saw a house at the top of a high hill, with a paddock for Epona and a garden where he could grow food. Waking up on bright mornings and wandering into the woods to find something to eat, or just to practice his shooting. The house near a village he recognizes on that fuzzy, deep level that he knew now was a missing memory. That house was real. He could see it so clearly, knew that he could manage it, if he really wanted to. He could find that old house, fix it up, make it as beautiful as it was in his mind. 

But for the life of him, he could not imagine himself there. Not alone. Someone was missing from the image, and he knew exactly who it was. 

He couldn’t reach for that future without Revali. He would never forgive himself, and he would never be happy. 

And the others, he thought guiltily, the other Champions, who he couldn’t even remember, and Zelda...he owed it to them, who had no chance at any sort of life without his help. He knew they had done him wrong, he knew this wasn’t fair to him, but it wasn’t particularly fair to them either. His mysterious past saddened him without a doubt, sometimes scared him, sometimes made him wish so badly for it all to stop, but it never angered him enough to think of actually walking away from them all. 

He turned his attention back to Impa, who watched him calmly, searching his expression for some clue of what he would say. 

He simply nodded. 

Impa gave a sad smile. “I expected nothing less,” she said with a nod, and turned back to the cabinet she had pulled open moments ago. “When you regain your memories...come speak to me again. There is much I need to apologize for. But for now...”

She pulled a wrapped bundle out from the darkened cabinet and got back to her feet, shuffling over to her seat and waving for Link to follow. Sitting back down on her perch of pillows, she took the bundle on her lap and slowly undid the strings holding it together. 

“After the Princess had you sent to the Shrine of Resurrection, she travelled many places to plan her attack on Ganon. This village was her first stop, just after she had given you to the warriors...she asked me to watch over a few of your things, and to speak with you when you awoke. 

“There wasn’t much that she gave me,” she admitted, tossing the twine aside and pausing for a moment before opening the package completely. “You carried very little with you, and...there was some damage that we could not repair. However...”

She pulled the wrapping open in lieu of continuing, and the two of them stared at the contents that the Princess had deemed worth returning to Link. 

Impa had been correct. There really wasn’t much. Most of the bundle was taken up by the tattered remains of a tunic. It must have once been a bright blue, but it was aged and covered in what looked like mud and...something darker. There were large gashes in the fabric, scorched at the edges and shredding most other places. Still, he could make out some of the pattern that had been sewn into the neck, the familiar outline of the sword destined to be in his hand.

His Champion’s tunic...he had been wearing it that day, when...

He picked it up with trembling hands, unsure exactly what he was feeling at that moment. There was the distant feeling of memory, and for a fraction of a second, he could hear the rain, feel the bone-deep chill, and the pain, blooming out from his chest and spreading everywhere. With a flinch and a hard blink, the flashback faded for a moment, and he dropped the tunic abruptly. He didn’t want it. Didn’t want it at all. 

Heavy understanding clouded Impa’s dark eyes for a moment, and she quickly folded the tunic back up and put it out of sight. Link took a shaking breath and tried to focus himself on the few other things still sitting in the pile of twine and wrapping. After a few seconds, he managed to stop the shaking in his hands, and looked once more at his only remaining belongings.

There was a hand guard meant for archery, in surprisingly good shape. The leather was well worn but uncracked, and it slipped onto his left hand with ease. He flexed his fingers, wondering at the strange comfort that such a small piece of equipment gave him. 

Revali had given him this. He could not remember when, or even the context the gift had come in, but he knew that he was right. Running his fingers over the soft leather, he was very glad that he had not given up looking at his old things after the tunic. He wanted to keep this very much.

Beyond that, there were only a few small items. A small wooden figurine in the shape of a dog, which he could not remember, but pocketed nevertheless. Some odd little beads in various colors. A single silver rupee. A short dagger with a familiar, blunt hilt. 

And finally, a bundle of paper, tied together with dark blue ribbon. 

“No one has opened that,” Impa said quietly as he picked it up, holding it gently in both hands. “Not even the Princess...I forbade it.”

Link swallowed hard, nodding his thanks and continuing to look at the tightly wrapped papers. 

“Link...”

He looked up at her. Something must have shown in his expression, as Impa softened her voice. 

“If I may,” she began gently. “Now is not the time nor the place to read whatever waits for you in that letter. You are exhausted, and have just accepted a fate which you can hardly remember. The words will be there when you are ready for them. Forcing yourself to remember now will only hurt you.”

She pulled herself to her feet and patted his hand. “Go to the inn, get a good night’s rest and something to eat. Tomorrow you can take the mountain path to Hateno Village. Do not go through Fort Hateno. Purah, my sister, runs the Ancient Tech Lab at the top of Hateno Village. She can repair your Slate and get you some better weaponry for your journey. Come back to me then, and we will talk.”

He nodded numbly after she finished, running a finger over the faded ribbon holding the bundle of papers together. There was a flicker of some memory poking at him, just a second’s worth of sensation, of warmth and someone’s hands in his _(Revali’s hands)—_

_“Link,”_ Impa said forcefully.

With a start, he looked at her again and realized he was hyperventilating. He shook his head, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his free hand and trying to force the tears to stop falling. It was a foolish attempt, really. Once they started, he never could get them to stop. 

******

Impa hushed him softly, concern clear in her tone, and her somewhat frantic movements. Never, not once in the ten or so years that she had known Hyrule’s Hero, had she ever seen him break down. His mask was always carefully in place, and he was always “on duty,” so to speak. There were a few times where she had seen him soften slightly, particularly in the company of a certain Champion, and perhaps the Princess toward the end, but he never cried. Not like this. The poor boy was a mess, breathing hard and unable to calm himself down as he started to sob, hard. 

This would not do. He had collapsed once already, doing so again would only prolong this terrible time he was going through. She had to calm him down somehow. Coaxing the old letter from his hands, she set it where he had put the rest of his things, then lead him back toward the center of the room, forcing him to sit down on the ground. He went down almost too easily, falling into an unruly heap on her floor and rubbing at his eyes silently. His entire form trembled, shoulders shaking as he wrapped his arms around his middle, holding himself close. She lowered herself to the ground next to him and set to work.

Her hands were cold, and she was by no means who she knew he needed now, but Hylia be damned if she wasn’t going to try her best for this poor child. They had put him through enough all those years ago, and she knew that he would only have to do the same thing all over again, praying for a better outcome. He had done everything they had asked of him, and had lost everything as payment. And now they were asking him to do it once again, without his memories, without the people he _needed_ to support him, and with so little time to save them. 

She hated that these were the roles they had been reduced to. He the lonely Hero, on a quest with no end and no aid, and she the wearied advisor, weighed down by a past he would blame only himself for. She could see it in his eyes, that guilt. For what else would he have already pushed himself to exhaustion for? For what else had he given his life for one hundred years prior? For what else would he so willingly do it again? 

Well...for Revali, of course...

But Revali was not here. Like the rest of the Champions, he was lost to them within minutes of the Calamity’s return.

Impa sighed as she patted Link’s shoulder and let him cry himself out, his head in his hands. They were so young. The Princess had spoken to her many times about the Hylian Champion—first with anger and frustration, bitterness darkening her tone as she spoke endlessly about how righteously silent and pompous the man was. The amount of time the foolish girl had wasted rambling on and on about the poor boy, all while he sat outside, guarding the door...

Then, as time went on (and she was scolded endlessly for how intensely wrong she was, how rude she was behaving) their conversations turned to confusion, then concern. For they all had known, as soon as the skinny little seven year old had been led into the throne room at Hyrule Castle, alone, carrying the Sword that was almost as tall as him, that he had no one. His father, while well meaning, was distracted, and once he had the sword, resigned. His mother had died when he was five. There was no one in his life whom he truly trusted.

Except Revali. 

Impa had never heard exactly how the two had met, or when their...relationship...had started. Initially, she had believed the two disliked each other. The Princess certainly did not appreciate the haughty, touchy behavior of the Rito Champion, and with the way that Link typically reacted toward those around him, she had assumed they would not get along. 

But she had been pleasantly proven wrong. The two got along as if they had known each other their entire lives, bickering back and forth like an old married couple. Revali was the only Champion besides Mipha who could understand Link’s gestures in the beginning, and had been...strangely protective of the boy when they had first been chosen. He translated for the others, glared at the Princess’ dismissals, and spoke to Link when no one else would. When the Champions were all together, the two tended to stick close to one another, and when they did not, one could always catch Revali watching Link interact with the rest, a wary sort of worry clear in his usually closed off expression. 

And Link had been the same way. He never spoke against the Princess in any manner, even when she insulted him to his face, but when Revali was brought up, his attitude shifted immediately. Nothing set the boy on edge more than a conversation he didn’t like regarding the Rito warrior. A few servants at the Castle had made the mistake of complaining about Revali in Link’s presence, and it had not ended well. 

If she hadn’t still been trying to calm the Hero down, she might have laughed at the memory of that. Two young servants, fleeing from the castle covered in red welts—and was that frosting?—with looks of pure horror, closely followed by Hylia’s Chosen Hero, wielding nothing but a wooden soup spoon and a fruitcake, a look of pure rage etched so fiercely onto his face that Impa thought for certain that it would stick that way. The young man had chased them all the way out to Castle Town’s edge before tossing the spoon at one of their heads, the fruitcake at the other. Both had hit their marks, knocking one servant to the ground and covering the other in sticky white frosting. Satisfied, Link had brushed his hands off on his pants, whistled for Epona, and rode off in the direction of Rito Village without a word about when he would return. 

The King had been in a right tizzy over that one. But there was never a foul word said about the Rito Champion ever again. No one dared to face the wrath of the Hero of Hyrule.

They had all known what was going on between the two of them by the time they made that fateful trek up Mount Lanayru. Anyone could see it—in the way they always covered each other in battle, then worried over the other’s wounds once it was over, in the way they wrote feverishly to each other every day, in the way Revali spent the entire time they were on the mountain pacing back and forth, only stopping to glance toward the path, waiting for Link’s return. 

And to think, it had all ended with this—death, one hundred years of sleep, all memories lost, and still, all the young Hero could ask for was his Rito back to him. There was nothing Impa could do to appease these tears, and she knew it. There were no words of comfort she could give him, no promise of a happy end. She had seen the Beasts turn that day, had heard the death-like shriek that had pierced the skies, so similar to the one that had called out just two days prior. Medoh had been the last to fall, and the first to scream when Link awoke.

She knew the way this story would end. There was simply no other way. All she could hope was that their Hero would be able to bear the pain of it.

_Hylia help him,_ she thought quietly, rubbing his back as he continued to cry, no end to his sorrows in sight. _He cannot do this alone. Give him something, anything to hold onto. He cannot continue unmoored. He will not survive this war. Win it, he might, but he will not live. Not like this._

******

Outside, it began to rain, thick and heavy, as it did here almost every day. Residents of the village and tourists alike fled for cover, holding their belongings over their heads in some weak effort to save themselves from the dampness. The cooking fire at the inn extinguished, those lighting the entrances quickly followed. 

The archery shop owner sighed, shutting her door and gathering her fire arrows, ready to relight the lanterns when the storm passed. By chance, she glanced out the window to her left, watching the rain trail down its surface with distant interest.

But something outside caught her eye, and she frowned. Setting down the bundle of fire arrows, she moved around the counter and closer to the window. With a wipe at its damp surface, the fog disappeared, and her eyes widened as she confirmed for certain what she was seeing.

The storm had picked up in intensity, sheets and sheets of rain falling with no end in sight. All of the village was dark and gloomy, the paths empty and barren. The lanterns and fires were all extinguished, their kindling trailing away in the streams of water rolling down the paths. 

Except for the torches surrounding the Goddess statue at the center of the village. All four of the uncovered torches were burning, their flames large and waving out of tandem with the breeze. The orange light cast an eerie glow over the statue’s face, as if she were looking up at the elder’s house. For a stone statue with only one expression, Hylia’s smile had turned almost sad, as if the rain trailing down her face were really tears, as if the usual cheeriness of the torchlight had all been sapped away.

Suddenly, the torches burned even brighter, and then blew out, as if a strong gust of wind had gone over them. The Goddess’ smile went back to its usual stone simplicity, and the rain fell harder. 

The shop owner moved away from the window, eyes wide and uncertain of what she had just seen. Surely she had been mistaken...surely the Goddess had not just...

As she gathered her fire arrows once again, the shop owner could think of only one thing. 

_What has saddened the Goddess so?_


	9. Anger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol remember when I said this chapter would hopefully come faster than the other? Jeez, was I a fool.
> 
> Anyway, hi! I’ve missed you! Remember me? I promise I’m alive. Trust me when I say that my life has literally been crazy lately. Also please trust me when I say that I will not abandon this story, no matter how long it takes me to put out a chapter. This behemoth means a lot to me, and I intend to finish it. However long and however many chapters that takes.
> 
> Also, jesus, this thing is gonna be long. I’m beginning to get a sense of that. This story really did take on a life of its own. I’m just the messenger to whatever demon or god wants this story out there.
> 
> Thank you for reading, thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy.

**_All will be well, with time..._ **

**_We promised to see each other again, remember..._ **

**_I’m not going to break that promise..._ **

**_We_ ** **_will_ ** **_see each other once more..._ **

**_But we can’t do that if you don’t_ ** **_rest_ ** **_..._ **

**_I’m here...I promise...I won’t leave you..._ **

Smiling slightly, Link slowed his breathing, focusing intently on the patch of trees about thirty feet away. He could still hear the faint jingling of the Korok’s windmill, which meant that there was another acorn to shoot. He only had to wait for the proper moment and then—

_ There. _

Faint smile now gone as he focused all his attention on his task, Link raised his bow to the proper height and knocked the arrow he had been holding for the past several moments. After a quick draw, it was whistling through the air, until with a thunk, it hit its mark dead on. The acorn disappeared in a puff of dust, and the windmill jangled excitedly on the trunk next to him. 

Immediately, the woods were filled with delighted laughter, and a Korok appeared on top of the stump. 

“You did it, you did it!” the little creature crowed excitedly, bouncing up and down on her tiny feet, her leafy mask flapping in the harsh breeze. “Ooh, and with the wind too! Mr. Hero is still the best shot!”

_ “Thank you,”  _ he signed with a little smile, putting his bow and arrows back where they belonged. 

“You’re welcome! Now your prize!”

The Korok immediately produced a gleaming seed from her pouch, dropping it into his hand and disappearing with the next gust of wind. Link pocketed his spoils and went to retrieve the arrows he had shot. How they remained usable after shooting a Korok’s game, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to waste a few perfectly good arrows. As he wandered the thin patch of woods, gathering up his arrows and a few mushrooms for good measure, he thought about the past few days. 

He had left Kakariko after another day’s worth of rest and preparation, spending most of that time wandering the village and helping a certain man chase down his fleeing cuccos. With the money the man had rewarded him with, he was able to buy a good stock of arrows and even some stealth armor, which came in handy when he spent most nights sneaking past bokoblin camps. He hadn’t tackled the shrine at the top of the village, but considering he had to make the trek back to Kakariko after visiting Hateno, he wasn’t too worried. 

At least, he was trying to convince himself of that. 

Shaking his head a little at his wandering thoughts, he plucked the last of his arrows from the trunk of a tree and pulled out the Sheikah Slate to examine the map. He hadn’t gone far off the path, but once the Korok mask had begun trembling, he had followed it until he found the puzzle, and hadn’t really paid attention to where he was going. If he could just get back to the path, he was sure he could find his way to Hateno by himself. 

Today was better than yesterday, and undoubtedly better than the day before that. The sun was shining brightly, the rain long blown away, the memories that had drowned him so terribly in days previous removed enough for him to appreciate. Now, at least for this moment, he could breathe. Now, he could focus, could take steps forward without tripping over the many he had fallen behind. 

If he could keep his focus centered as it was now, he could do this. He knew that. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe the worst of his days were behind him, but this breath of relief was still a blessing which he would use to his best ability. His past was a weight constantly dragging him down, always waiting in the wings to overwhelm him, but he was getting better at recognizing just what he could and could not face. 

For example, he knew that the spider-like mechanical monsters known as Guardians, even in their rusted over, deactivated forms, were an absolute  _ no.  _ Just the thought of them made his hands shake and his ears ring with screams long dead and gone. It was best to avoid them entirely, and if he could not, to avoid looking at them for too long. Thankfully, the travelers on the road (and Impa, who had marked several places on the slate that he should avoid) were happy to warn him of where the machines tended to circle. As he gathered more pieces of the Slate’s map, he knew he could dance around that piece of his trauma, at least for a little while...until he could manage his fear a little better. 

Monsters, on the other hand, he could handle. He had seen many even in the short trip from Kakariko to Hateno—mostly bokoblins, but there were also moblins, who were significantly stronger, a hinox he had tiptoed past in the dead of night, and even a lynel that he had spotted from afar. These beasts, fearsome as they were, did not scare him. He knew that he could handle them, even in swarms, could feel each time he raised a sword in battle that he was not overwhelmed by these beasts. They were no match for him, and that he knew quite well. 

He was most comfortable, however, riding Epona. His horse was one of the only pieces of his past that he had, and the only which he could truly have some sort of connection to. Epona understood him in the same uncanny way he remembered she had one hundred years ago, could get him into or out of battle with ease, always knew when he needed to rest, and was far too intelligent for her own good. If he were honest, she was just about his only friend at this point, and certainly his most consistent companion. 

Besides the empty spaces in his memory, and the letter burning a hole into his pocket. 

The past day of travel had been quiet, on several fronts. The roads he took were mostly empty, thanks to Impa’s skillful charting of his path, with few monsters and even fewer travelers. The weather was, for once, cooperating, not dousing him in rain at every opportunity. Even the animals in the forests seemed to be relaxed, watching him calmly as he rode past them, or scurrying under his feet as he gathered food. He enjoyed the quiet. It let him think, let him sort out his thoughts and plan his next move. 

Putting the Sheikah Slate back on his belt, Link whistled hard for Epona and waited for her to find him. Within seconds, he could hear her thundering hooves, and she appeared in front of him with a loud whinny in greeting. He smirked at her and pulled himself up into the saddle, turning her toward the direction of the path. With a flick of the reins, they were off, back to the task at hand. 

As they rejoined the path to Hateno Village, Link let his thoughts wander once again, on safer ground than he had been for days. There was still the aching in his chest, still the pit in his stomach and the gaping holes in his memories, but he was at least becoming accustomed to the feeling. Besides, he had a few memories now...he could think of those with some happiness, and try to piece together what happened in between them. 

He wondered idly what Impa’s sister, Purah would be like. Impa had told him next to nothing about her elder sister, only that she was the head of the Ancient Tech Lab above Hateno Village. What was an Ancient Tech Lab anyway? He had no idea...well, whatever it was, he had to find it, and hopefully get the Sheikah Slate repaired. 

As they drew closer to the village, the path widened and joined another, likely the road Impa had insisted he avoid. He hadn’t questioned her. He remembered Tasseren telling him about Blatchery Plain...he would not go there unless he absolutely had to. But it did connect the main road to Fort Hateno, and the village beyond it, so it made some sense that it would be the quickest path to the village. He could tell from the beaten down dirt that it still saw great traffic, even with how few people there were around Hyrule now...

Shaking his head at that dark train of thought, he looked up the path, where it snaked up a steep hill and disappeared under a pale stone archway. That must have been the village entrance. He was getting close. 

He hoped there would be someplace he could sleep for cheap in the village. The few rupees he had managed to find he had spent buying more arrows from an odd merchant named Beedle, who had given him a steep discount thankfully, but still, buying what he needed had nearly bankrupt him. He did find some valuable gemstones, though...if he could trade those in, he could probably afford a night at the inn. And he knew he couldn’t afford to exhaust himself like he had before. 

Epona slowed, swishing her tail and turning. Link let her go, knowing there was no stopping her once she decided there was somewhere they must go. The path branched off to the right just before the entry arch of Hateno, and Epona trotted along the turn happily, clearly set on something. Link held the reins loosely, looking around with curiosity as she chose their way. He could see where the path wound into the village, could just make out the bright orange glow of a shrine just a short distance away. He would have to go there, certainly. 

But his attention was quickly diverted, as Epona’s destination came into view. 

It was as if someone had reached back into his most dim fantasies, that space between memory and reality that he tried very hard not to frequent, and plucked this nondescript house from his dreams. The one he had found his mind wandering to, when Impa had asked him if he was ready to bear this burden again. When he had allowed himself a moment to consider the future, whatever that could possibly look like, this house had appeared in his mind’s eye, unprompted. 

It was a small village house, abandoned and in a state of disrepair, no more grand or extravagant than those further down the path, even understated compared to the loud banners (and even bright dye) that some of them boasted. The advantages this little house had were more understated than such things. 

For one, it sat across a wooden bridge from the rest of the village, tucked into the mountain edge and away from the bustle. It appeared to be...mostly one floor, with the roof sloping upward to the right, and a path leading to a second door inside, besides the front door. Ivy grew unchecked up the building’s face, trailing all the way up and wrapping around the chimney. There was a fenced area to the right as well, with a few small trees just beginning to get leaves. A far larger tree grew to the left and gave the entire area shade. Under it, there was an old, overturned cooking pot, unlit.

Epona whinnied excitedly, trotting toward the house and around the raised path, where a horse stall leaned against the back of the house. Link dismounted quickly, letting her run off of her own accord as he approached the front door, a distant, but not uncomfortable, haze coming over him. His boots crunched on the loose dirt that was once a path, and for a moment, the sound blurred and combined, morphed and shifted to include others, from times he couldn’t even pinpoint. Other sets of feet joined his own, other hands overlapping with his as he pushed the creaking door inward. 

His last coherent thought was that he had never yet had a memory like this. 

Then of course, a memory came. 

******

“I just don’t understand it,” Revali huffed, his arms crossed and expression sour. 

Link rolled his eyes fondly, thankfully turned the other direction, or else the angry Rito would have turned on him too. But no, he was facing the window, scrubbing at the grime on his shield furiously. There was a particular spot of muck, a sticky purple color that he really didn’t want to know the source of, which he had been working furiously at for the past several minutes, to little effect. 

Revali had barged in about an hour ago, all in a tizzy over something or other, offered a little explanation for himself before settling in. It didn’t take long for him to begin pacing Link’s tiny Hateno house up and down, frowning deeply and muttering to himself. 

Link let him go, content to continue his work on his shield until Revali was finished with his tantrum. No amount of coaxing could get him to stop. Not until he tired himself out, at least. 

_ “Years  _ of this nonsense,” Revali went on, turning and stalking the other direction, his talons clacking loudly on the wood floor. “And not a single bit of time for anything else! All we do, week after week, is follow along on endless journey after journey, spring after spring. It’s obscene!”

Ah. So  _ that  _ was what had upset him. Link paused his cleaning, glancing back at him with a half smirk. 

“How much more pomp is required before we’re allowed to fight this demon, anyway?” he grumbled, so upset he didn’t even notice Link was watching him now, his cleaning temporarily abandoned. “We’ve had ceremony after ceremony. You’ve had, what—three, just for yourself? And now we’re expected to  _ accompany the child  _ to  _ another spring, _ just so she can, what? Splash water on the Goddess and dance a jig?”

Link held in a snort, covering his mouth with a hand, but Revali went on unphased, too deep into his annoyance to notice anything really. 

“People have  _ plans,”  _ he continued on, his agitation only growing. “Lives exist outside of her blasted schedules. How are we meant to go on like this? We’ve only just returned from her last little exploit, and look how well that went. At this point, I’m lucky you even remember me. For all I know, I’ll come home one day and you’ll be off running with some...hooligan.”

Link couldn’t hold in his laughter that time, covering his mouth with both hands as Revali turned abruptly to face him, still puffed up with anger. 

“What—what are you laughing at?” he sputtered indignantly, crossing his arms again as Link only continued to laugh. “I don’t see anything funny about this.”

_ “Drama queen,”  _ Link signed sloppily, still laughing, red in the face. 

“I am not a—” he huffed, looked up at the ceiling, and then back down at Link, who was struggling for air. “Well at least  _ you’re _ enjoying yourself. Don’t see how your inevitable infidelity is so  _ hilarious.” _

Link sobered quickly at that.  _ “Inevitable,”  _ he repeated, and rolled his eyes in full view.  _ “Nothing like that is ever going to happen.” _

Revali suddenly looked very uncomfortable, and averted his eyes in favor of staring out the window. He muttered something under his breath, sounding suspiciously close to  _ “surrounded  _ by people...don’t know  _ what _ to expect...”

_ “No one else matters like you,”  _ Link signed quickly, thankful that Revali at least had the respect to look at what he was saying to him.  _ “It’s just you.” _

Revali’s expression softened for a moment before he shook his head, avoiding his eyes. “We never see each other anymore. Not for more than a few days, at least. You haven’t been home since the solstice celebration. That was  _ months  _ ago, Link.”

He winced, and looked away for a moment.  _ “I know. I’m...trying, but—” _

“But you can’t get away. I know.”

_ “After the Spring, maybe I can...” _

Revali finally stopped his pacing, dropping into the chair across from Link with a surprising lack of decorum. Link stopped, looking over at him with unmasked concern. It really had been too long since they had any time to see each other. Sure, there had been a handful of travels they had done as a group, and Revali had been there as much as he could, even when it was just Link and Zelda going about, but...it just wasn’t enough. 

Not for any of the Champions, if they were honest. The exhaustion was beginning to show on each of their faces, even as they pushed to hide it and keep moving forward. When they had begun this, years back when they had first been chosen, there had been time. Weeks of the year to go back home, to try to relax or deal with their separate responsibilities. 

That time was gone now. Each day, things seemed to get more intense. More monsters invaded villages. The King became more paranoid. The ground shook and the weather worsened, a storm ready to strike at any moment. None of them were fool enough to think this fight wasn’t coming—and coming soon. 

Zelda lengthened their schedule, desperately adding more stops, more statues to pray at, more elders and seers and guides to speak to. The Sheikah worked round the clock on the Guardians they had, trying to get them all up and moving, ready for their duties. The Champions spent hours and hours with their Divine Beasts, drilling and drilling, and Link lost days to training with the Sheikah, constantly. Their once tight knit group was splitting apart at the seams, all for the sake of trying to be ahead of the endlessly approaching battle. 

This was the first time Link had returned to his house in Hateno in nearly a year. It had been quite the trial to clean the place up, and to try to get some rest while he could. He would have to leave again in two days’ time, to accompany Zelda back to Kakariko so she could prepare for her time on Mount Lanayru. Then they would journey to the summit, she would pray at the Spring, and they would move on to the next step in her grueling, never-ending training. 

“Come back with me to Rito,” Revali said suddenly, drawing Link from his thoughts. 

_ “What?” _

“Think about it,” Revali insisted, leaning forward with an earnestness to his expression that wasn’t often present. It was only their solitude that drew such things from him. “We’ll have all the travel time to the village, and far more privacy than here once we arrive. No one to stare or ask foolish questions or prey on your hero complex—”

_ “Revali.” _

“I’m right, and you know it. Anyone who approaches you with so much as a loose floorboard receives all your kindness immediately. But we can avoid that in the village.”

_ “I only have two days.” _

“We can meet the Princess at the mountain.”

_ “But the King—” _

“Doesn’t have to know.”

_ “It’s my job to—” _

_ “Link,” _ Revali cut him off desperately, and his hands fell back to the table. “Please. Come  _ home.” _

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and Link could see the exhaustion in Revali’s eyes then, the sadness running a close second. It was a look he was certain mirrored his own expression, given how sore he was, how long it took him to fall asleep these past few days, how quickly he rode here after dropping Zelda at the inn. Revali’s sudden entrance, as much of a surface level annoyance as it was, was also a relief. Dealing with Revali’s sarcasm and tendency to whine was infinitely better than slogging along after Zelda for another month’s worth of staring eyes and angry monsters. 

_ “I’ll go find Zelda,”  _ Link signed, pushing himself to his feet and leaving his shield on the table.  _ “Then we can go.” _

Revali nodded, utter relief clear in the easy smile slipping over his face. “Hurry.”

He nodded, and hurried out the door in the direction of the village, not caring for appearances as he ran through the crowds toward the inn. People parted out of his way, gawking openly, but for once he didn’t take the time to care. The sword clanked in its sheath on his back, and he had left his shield at home, and surely he looked unkempt, but it didn’t matter. 

Without a care in the world, he burst through the doors of the inn and up the stairs, ignoring the shout of surprise from the girl behind the counter. He knew where Zelda’s room was, and no one would dare to stop him. The guards might give him a funny look, but he was allowed to see the Princess. Hell, he chose the guards at her door. He could talk to her whenever he wanted, and he was going to take advantage of that now. 

Sure enough, the two soldiers at her door glanced at him oddly, but said nothing as he rapped on the wood loudly. There was the soft sound of pattering feet, and then the undoing of a great number of locks, and then the door opened inward, revealing the Princess in her usual travel attire, an exhausted frown briefly gracing her features.

That frown slipped when she saw who it was, though. And for that, Link was grateful. 

“Link!” she said happily, if a little surprised, smiling and waving him inside. “I’ve just been looking over the designs of the Guardian Turrets once again. Father’s posted them at the tops of all the towers at the Castle and I can’t be quite sure if that’s wise. We have been having trouble getting them to raise and lower as they should...”

She chattered on easily as she shut the door and hurried back to her desk, flipping through pages and pages of sketches of various machinery. Link followed after her, letting her go on for a few moments without pause. 

“Purah still cannot seem to find a single of the smaller Guardians—the Scouts—except the broken bits she found near the shrine here. She’s mounted them all around the lab, though, and I must say, it’s quite a sight. Oh!” she stopped suddenly, turning to look at him sheepishly. “I’m so sorry, I’ve gone on again, haven’t I? What was it that you needed?”

He hesitated, wondering how to word exactly what he wanted to ask her.  _ “Revali is in town,”  _ he started carefully. 

“Is he? That’s wonderful. Is he at your house, then?”

He nodded.

“I wonder if I should speak to him about Vah Medoh’s barrier...he did say at the last roundup he’s been having trouble deactivating it once it’s started, and—”

_ “He’s only here for today,”  _ he cut her off.

“Oh,” she said, a little sad. “Oh, I see...is he to go straight back to Rito Village afterwards?”

He nodded again, and then hesitated, unsure how to continue. 

“Well,” Zelda said, closing her book of notes and tossing her hair behind her, that determined, unflinching look settling on her face. “It’s about a day’s journey back, if you fly, add in some more time for rest and you should arrive by tomorrow evening if you leave now...yes, that will do just fine.”

Link stared. 

“Don’t gape at me like that. What do you take me for, completely heartless?” She looked affronted, waving her hand at him dismissively. “You can join us at Mount Lanayru in a week’s time. Now go on, shoo!”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a quick,  _ “Thank you,”  _ and a smile, he was gone, running down the stairs of the inn and back through the village. 

Revali was standing outside the house with a scowl as looked toward the path out of the village, arms crossed and feathers ruffled. He had his bow and the few other things he had brought with him, and there was a tense set to his shoulders, an impatient worry in the way he tapped his foot erratically, eyes flicking around without seeing much. 

At least until Link came storming across the bridge, and he looked over in time to call, “What are you—” before they collided, hitting the ground in a pile of limbs and with a good deal of shouting from Revali. 

When they had sorted out up from down, and whose elbows were in whose face, Revali huffed in annoyance. “You really don’t have to make these sorts of entrances you know,” he said flatly. 

Link rolled off of him and sat up, grinning ear to ear. This seemed to give Revali pause, and he was quiet for several seconds, staring at Link suspiciously. Then he realized, and the suspicion faded away, replaced with that familiar hope. 

“She said yes?” 

He nodded quickly. 

Revali’s smile grew. “Come on then!” he shouted, getting up and dragging Link with him. “We’ve no time to lose! Let’s go home.”

Link smiled, letting Revali pull him toward the path, not caring for his abandoned gear, or the many responsibilities he was dodging by doing this. 

All he cared about was going  _ home.  _

******

The door swung inward with a prolonged creak and groan, until it stopped about three quarters of the way open, sticking on worn and rusted hinges. Dust billowed out in a thick cloud, and the sunlight streaming through the doorway was enough to show that no person had set foot inside the house in a very long time. His boots made almost no sound on the dirt covered floor, and as he glanced down, he saw he left footprints on the worn wood where he came inside. He tried not to focus on them for too long, and moved his attention to the rest of the house, ignoring the hollow feeling in his chest. 

Dazed, Link shuffled forward, looking around the aged remains of what was once his home...or at least one of them.

It looked somehow smaller now than it had in his memory. Most of it was composed of two large rooms—an upper and a lower. The upper level was where the bed was, tucked into the far corner under the window with a desk, a chair, and a set of drawers against the wall. The lower held the kitchen, the dining table, and an alcove under the stairs for storage. 

The walls had once held mounted weapons, shields and swords and bows he had collected from various ceremonies or friends. There were pictures on the walls too, paintings he’d found, or salvaged from his family home. Every surface had been crammed full of items, from arrows and elixirs to old letters and stored food. In the portions of his memory he could grasp, the house had been a bit hectic, but lively, a picture of his whirlwind life, but nevertheless his own place, lived in and taken care of. 

But that was no longer the case, of course. Time had ruined what was once a meticulously clean (if a little overstocked) house. It had descended into rot and nature worn neglect, a dilapidated shadow of what it once was. Very little of it was recognizable. 

A few feet in front of him was the table, or what was left of it. One of the legs had given out, the wood rotted away until it collapsed. Of the four wooden chairs that had once sat there, only one remained, tossed on its side and gray with age. 

The counters of the little kitchen were in a similar state, with the smoothed wood warped from rainfall, cabinet doors blown open by wind and what little remained of their contents strewn about. There had been a window that showed the road back to the village, but it was gone, the glass shattered, wood frame hanging the wrong direction into the house, covered in moss. An ambitious branch of ivy had crawled its way through the frame and covered much of the wall to his left, creeping across the counters and spilling onto the floors. 

The weapon mounts were mostly gone, and if he had left any weapons on them, they too were lost to time...or perhaps thieves. Two of the mounts had fallen from their hooks, laying flat on the dusty ground, covered in browned leaves. There was a stain on the wall where another had once hung. It had been torn out, the nail bent at a jagged angle and the wood scraped where someone had clearly pried it away in a hurry. 

Grass grew up from between the floorboards, and wind whistled through the cracks in the walls. The fireplace had collapsed, its stone bricks piled up high, making it unusable. Dirt and leaves clogged the spaces between them, and there was a scurrying sound coming from somewhere, like an animal scuttling about in what was now its home. 

Light seemed to shine in from all the wrong places as he walked further inside, and as he looked up at the upper floor, he realized why. Part of the roof had been lost, a large patch of it caved in, other sections wearing away and letting light leak in through the cracks. The beams illuminated the decay in an unsettling way, casting too much light on what his mind could not comprehend. 

It made him feel as if he were an intruder on some land he no longer held claim to. Nature had taken this place back from him, and he no longer seemed to fit. 

He shook his head at the darkness of his thoughts and continued on, making his way carefully around the broken table and toward the thin set of stairs to the upper level. The floor creaked in protest, the sound loud in the otherwise silent house. Something darted out from underneath the staircase, and he turned in time to see the bushy tail of a squirrel as the animal fled away. He felt a pang of guilt for disturbing the little thing from its hiding place, but turned away and began to carefully ascend the stairs. 

In comparison to the mess that was the first floor, the upstairs was far worse. The collapsed roof had let the elements in, and with them came plants and animals, taking over what had been left behind. Dirt and leaves covered the surfaces of the broken furniture. The bed frame slumped, wood bowed in the middle and green with moss, bedding rotted away. The walls were damp with condensation, the pictures that used to hang there long disintegrated and gone. Drawers of the dresser were pulled open or missing, faded and threadbare fabric pulled out and torn to shreds by time. The window here had faced the same fate as that in the kitchen, but the glass was strewn across the floor in large chunks, sunlight glinting blindingly off the surface.

Link walked among the remains of his home in a blur of indiscriminate emotion. Memories toyed at the edges of his thoughts as they always did, little fragments of moments he couldn’t hope to remember fully. Walking down the stairs and out into the yard, where the cooking pot used to sit under the tree. Hanging his shield on the mount on the wall, pride warm in his chest. Dinner at the table, with other voices rising in laughter. Falling into bed, worn and exhausted. Rainy nights inside, listening to the rain patter on the roof. 

It all swirled around him, but the illusion was broken by the sheer magnitude of the decay that had taken this place. No amount of memory could let him forget just how much time had passed, when confronted with the shell of his former home. No amount of convincing could make him forget just what he had once had here.

He went back down the stairs in a haze, his feet carrying him in a circle of the house without thought. He picked his way carefully through the debris of a past life and one hundred years of abandonment, stepping over broken memories and encroaching nature. His hands shook at his sides, and his eyes were burning, chest hollow with a now familiar ache, but he could not bring himself to release the tension building up inside. Not yet. 

His eyes swept over the debris for a few seconds before he shook his head forcefully, hands clenched into fists as he stomped his way forward. 

He lifted the broken weapon mounts from the floor and leaned them against the wall, having no way of hanging them once again. With a little effort, he forced the window frame back into place, ignoring the lack of glass. He picked the ivy from the walls and cleared it away. Somewhat lost, he brushed dirt from the floor with his boot, kicking it out the broken doorway until the floor was mostly clean. The overturned chair was righted once more, though it leaned to the right no matter what he did. 

After twenty minutes or so, he stopped to look around at the place once again, stubbornly pleased with himself. It was by no means habitable—there were still birds sitting on the rafters above, watching him with occasional chirps, and the dirt seemed to be ingrained into every wooden surface, and nothing he could do would fix the massive hole in the roof—but still, it was better. Some sense of dignity had returned to the place, and though it looked very little like the house his mind had conjured up, some piece of it still remained. 

With some of the dirt and the wildlife pulled back, he could see a little more of what this place had once been. It was less painful to look at the kitchen now and remember fragments of dinners, of time with friends and family. He could look at the places where he used to hang his things, his memories, and not feel like he was drowning. He could remember the pieces of his past that had once been here without despairing at the loss of them. 

Still, he did not want to linger here, in the cloudy space of what he had lost. His task loomed ever present in the back of his mind, and as much as he wanted to spend the rest of the day repairing the damage done to his home by time, he could not. He had to restock his gear, find something to eat, perhaps rest, and meet Purah to repair the Sheikah Slate. 

He turned away, eyes set on the still open front door, content to find Epona and return to the path before his sadness got the best of him once again. There would be time later to reassemble the past. The fragments of his house would have to wait to be put back together when he had more time to address them. He nodded to himself and started toward the door. 

Until his boot clanged on something metallic, and he froze. He looked down, confused and a little wary of what he would find.

That feeling rapidly dissipated, however, when he saw what he had stepped on.

Covered in dust and stuck deep into the dirt where the floorboards had rotted away was his shield, the shield he had been cleaning in the memory he had only just recalled. 

The one he had left behind. The one he had forgotten, the one he had not had with him when he perhaps needed it most. 

_ —running across mud slicked grass, Zelda clinging to his hand. He could hear her crying as they ran, and people screaming around them, running for their own lives as the mechanical whirring grew ever closer. Explosions rocked the ground, and every few seconds, a scream would be abruptly cut short.  _

_ “Link!” _

_ He turned at her shout, watching as one of the damned machines bore down on them, crawling across the ground as its targeting system locked.  _

_ On the Princess. _

_ Having no choice, he jerked her hard to the right and dove in front of her as the beam fired.  _

_ “No!” _

_ The beam tore into his side, cutting through his thin armor with ease and blasting him to the ground. He landed hard on his back, staring up at the blackened sky for a few disoriented seconds.  _

_ Zelda—where was Zelda—where did she— _

_ And she appeared above him, biting her nails and crying. She looked so afraid, her eyes darting all across his chest. Whatever she saw there, she must not have liked, as she paled considerably and gave a rather choked cry. _

_ He had to get her out of here. _

_ The Guardian had apparently found some other interest, as nothing fired at him as he sat up, too numb to acknowledge the pain cutting deep into his chest, burning into his flesh and making every breath a trial. Zelda stared at him in terror as he struggled to his feet, his hand tight on the sword, ignoring how slick with blood the hilt was becoming. He took a strangled breath and grabbed her hand again, tugging her along as he set his sights on the river, and the path there— _

He flinched as the memory ended, struggling to keep on his feet against the strange weakness in his legs. Instinctively he started pulling at his shirt, feeling for injuries that weren’t there, some deep part of him unable to comprehend that there was no blood on him, no gashes in his chest or burns crawling all over him. 

All that was left of that day were the scars, ugly and cutting across his whole body in endless stripes and tears. There was no blood on his hands, soaking into his shirt and making his grip on the sword slip. No rain falling endlessly in icy sheets, slicking the ground and flooding the paths. No people screaming and running for their lives, no Princess to get to safety. 

He had failed that.

No,  _ no, _ he couldn’t think like that. He couldn’t afford that kind of guilt now. He couldn’t. It would tear him apart, if he thought of it too much.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, untangling his hands from his tunic and rubbing them together, desperate for something to do. Breathe. He was fine. He wasn’t hurt. The Princess was alive. She had spoken to him. He was fine. He had time. He wasn’t there anymore. There was nothing here to hurt him. He was safe. He was fine.

He was  _ fine. _

Crouching down, he dug the shield out of the dirt and dusted off its surface. The metal glinted in the light, seemingly unaffected by the hundred years it had spent stuck in the dirt. There was a familiar insignia painted across the surface, of a bright red bird on a blue background, and a set of three triangles above it, standing out from the surface of the rest of the shield. He had seen that symbol...on the plateau, and in flashes in his memories. It was woven into the banners flying in the ruins near the plateau, and carved into the stones by the Temple of Time. 

He wondered how he had gotten this shield...if that memory would ever return to him. It seemed like one of more importance than others...but then again, how would he know? He couldn’t even remember his father’s name. How was he to judge which memories were important and which were not?

No, he couldn’t think like this. He didn’t have the time, and it would only drag him down. He could feel the beginnings of panic at the edges of his mind, in his hands as they shook clinging to the shield. If he tried to work through this now, he wouldn’t be able to get up from the ground for the next several hours. And he couldn’t afford to do that. He couldn’t.

He had to keep moving. As painful as it was, he had to.

So he slung the shield on his back, wiped once at his eyes, and went to the door.

******

At least an hour later, with the sun just starting to dip below the mountains, Link stomped his way out of the Myahm Agana shrine, frustrated enough that if he were in the proper mood, he might have grumbled aggressively under his breath. 

Stupid shrines and their stupid puzzles with  _ stupidly touchy controls. _ It had taken him an embarrassingly long amount of time to roll the orb through the maze and into its pedestal, only to walk down to the monk’s door and realize there was treasure in the maze. He was so low on gear that he had little choice but to trudge back up to the controls and angle the maze properly so he could paraglide to the chest. Then there had been fifteen or so seconds where he had stood at the edge of the maze, staring into the literal abyss and trying to find a way back without  _ dying. _ It had taken an annoyingly long amount of time to find a decent jump point to glide back, and his hands were shaking badly by the time he landed once more near the pedestal.

Needless to say, he was not very happy when he reached the monk for his spirit orb.

At least he had a decent bow, now. The Sheikah Slate had called it a phrenic bow, a light, sleek sort of bow covered in Sheikah eyes. It was in good shape, sturdier than the ones he had been able to knick from monsters so far. There wasn’t much power to it, but it would do for now. 

He was so frustrated with himself for the time he had wasted in the shrine that he barely reacted as he made his way back through Hateno Village. The lanterns had been lit, casting the main road a pale yellow as people wandered back toward their homes. A dog trotted down the path, sniffing along as if it were on a great chase, at least until a few children ran past and it was distracted, barking happily and following after them. An old man shuffled back in the direction of the inn, and a strange looking fellow closed the shutters of the cloth dyeing shop. There was music coming from somewhere, but it wasn’t clear where exactly. 

The fireflies began to appear just as he crossed the bridge, and only then did Link stop to realize where exactly his feet had carried him. It hadn’t even been a conscious thought to return to the house. Then again, he supposed he had nowhere else to go for the night. He could pay for a room at the inn, but he needed to save his rupees for when he left the village for...wherever it was he was going next. No, it was best to stay in the house for the night, even if it did mean he would have to...set up camp inside it. There was no way he could sleep in what remained of his bed. 

He didn’t really want to go back to the house. There were too many memories too close to the surface. That much, he could tell, even at this distance. 

Then again, if he didn’t confront them as they came, how could he be disappointed with the amount he remembered? How could he be prepared for what was to come if he didn’t learn all he could about his past?

He sighed as he pushed the broken door open once again, shooing the fireflies away before they could get inside. It wasn’t as if his most important memories were waiting in this house. And pushing himself wasn’t going to help matters any more than avoiding his memories did. He could only do so much in one day...as upsetting as that was. 

Putting it out of his mind, he focused instead on trying to cobble up some plan for where to sleep. He dropped his gear on the remains of the counter and went back outside, checked on Epona and grabbed his sleeping roll, then retreated again. It wasn’t cold enough to need a fire, thankfully. Where he could have built one (considering the collapsed state of the fireplace) he couldn’t say. 

Trying not to think too much about anything, he threw his roll down on the ground by the fireplace, out of the drafty wind and away from the door. He grabbed the sword he had found, and his bow and shield, and dropped onto the ground without care. Tugging wearily at his tunic, he decided against changing, and took off the more cumbersome pieces of armor he had acquired. Finally, he was left with just the red tunic and his undershirt, and he flopped onto his back. He reached blindly for the sword, and was both happy and unhappy when his fingers found the worn hilt with ease. 

He found he couldn’t sleep without some means of protection within reach. Close reach. 

Of course, there was little comfort in the protection he could currently afford himself. The sword, the bow, they were all  _ wrong.  _

With a frustrated scowl, he rolled away from the offending weaponry and faced the wall. Stupid. This was all stupid. None of this was right. He couldn’t even protect himself properly anymore. He wanted  _ his  _ sword, and  _ his  _ bow, and  _ his  _ house. Not these broken remains and scrambled together pieces. 

But he didn’t know how to get everything he needed back. His sword, he knew, was “asleep” in Kokiri Forest, that much he could remember as instinctively as he could remember how to breathe. The Forest itself would be easy enough to find, once he had more pieces of the map. As terrible as he felt, his sword wasn’t an immediate problem. He would retrieve her when he was strong enough, and he wasn’t strong enough yet. Panicking and running to the Forest now would only get him a stern lecture from a certain ancient tree, and he remembered enough about his blurry past to know he did  _ not  _ want to be subjected to that scolding. 

He had no idea where his bow was. The idea that he even had a bow was only a vague notion at the back of his mind. The memories he had regained so far had not included that weapon. Most hadn’t even included his shield, only his sword—the one weapon he had been forced to display like some kind of trophy, when all it had ever been to him was a duty, a burden, a task too great to flaunt to any passerby. 

But his bow was never in sight, and he could not search through his past thoughts for mentions of it. He couldn’t even remember what it looked like...though he had a good hunch of who had given it to him. There was an inkling there, a fuzzy memory not quite ready to surface, but he let it go. He would just have to hope it had survived, wherever he had left it. 

Hylia, he hoped it hadn’t been destroyed. If it was...

He sighed and rolled onto his back, willing himself to change this course of thought before he sank into darkness. There was no sense in despairing over what he could not change. He had to look forward. As much as possible, anyway. 

Exhaustion pulled hard at him, and he closed his eyes, letting the current pull him under.

******

_ Things were quiet, tonight. The blurry world faded in slowly, and he didn’t try to speed it along. It wouldn’t do much, and he wasn’t in any sort of hurry for this to begin. Beginning meant they were closer to the end, after all.  _

**_“Pessimism doesn’t suit you,”_ ** _ a flat voice said, but there was some semblance of mirth lurking.  _ **_“Brooding is my job, you’re supposed to be the pleasant one.”_ **

_ He huffed as sensation came to him, and he felt wings firmly wrapped around him. He still couldn’t tell exactly where they were. There was nothing but shifting fog, as far as he could tell, but he could feel Revali, and that was all that mattered to him.  _

**_“You know,”_ ** _ Revali mused after a while, his voice quiet but somehow ringing through Link’s head.  _ **_“I have no idea why this happens. Why we’ve connected this way, I mean. It isn’t as if we did this before...”_ **

_ He shifted, and Link realized they were laying on something, but he didn’t trouble himself to find out what. He only hummed at Revali’s half finished thought and sank deeper into the embrace.  _

**_“I’m not complaining, of course,”_ ** _ he went on quietly.  _ **_“This is far better than...”_ **

_ He trailed off, holding tighter to Link as the fog shifted darkly. A strange sound called from the distance, loud and piercing, and Link feared for a moment that this illusion would break, and he would be left alone again in the darkness.  _

_ But the sound faded, and it was quiet once again.  _

_ Revali did not slacken his tight grip.  _

**_“Don’t leave yet, please,”_ ** _ he begged suddenly, clinging to Link with a fierceness that he had never felt before.  _ **_“Please stay. Please—”_ **

_ Link could not find any means of replying. No words would come. So he turned, enough to put his own arms around Revali and bury his face in his shoulder.  _

_ He wasn’t leaving. Not unless he was forced to.  _

_ After a little while, Revali seemed to calm down again, enough to loosen his deadly tight grip with a sigh.  _ **_“I’m sorry about that...”_ **

_ Link shook his head.  _

**_“When you aren’t here...”_ ** _ he paused, his voice pained.  _ **_“This is the only time that feels...normal. When you’re gone, it’s...it’s terrible. I get glimpses sometimes, of...what’s happening, but...most times it’s just...darkness.”_ **

_ A flash of his time in the Shrine of Resurrection went through his mind—that blurry, thick time that he had spent, falling, screaming for someone, anyone to help him, to get him out. Memories pulled away from him with every passing second, cut from his mind, unwound like thread and torn away, leaving him empty and terrified. And still, he kept falling, still, the darkness never ended.  _

**_“No,”_ ** _ Revali said forcefully, tightening his hold again and cutting off his dark thoughts.  _ **_“No, it isn’t like that. Nothing could ever be like that...that_ ** **_nightmare._ ** **_Please, please don’t guilt yourself into believing I’ve suffered anything similar to that.”_ **

_ Link frowned, unsure if he really believed what Revali was saying. He didn’t know anything about what Revali had been through. He could barely remember that...that day, and he didn’t know what had happened to him in the hundred years Link had been in the Shrine.  _

_ He did know that Revali was just as trapped as he had been. It didn’t matter the location. He couldn’t leave. They were similar enough.  _

**_“I have my memories,”_ ** _ Revali pointed out bluntly.  _ **_“Nothing this...this_ ** **_beast_ ** **_can do will take those away. You, however...”_ **

_ “Doesn’t matter,” he signed briefly, then sank back into Revali’s embrace.  _

_ They were both trapped, it hardly mattered the shape or context of the prison. Link remembered very little about what had happened when...when the Divine Beasts had fallen. The memory churned at the back of his mind, but he wasn’t ready for it, just like he wasn’t ready for the letter stowed away in his pack. He  _ _ wanted _ _ to remember...but he was  _ _ terrified. _ __

_ He didn’t need that memory to know that Revali had suffered just as much as he had.  _

_ Revali sighed.  _ **_“Fine. Believe what you want to believe. But so help me if you make this any harder on yourself out of guilt, I will haunt your dreams in far more annoying ways than this.”_ **

_ Link snorted, and the air was lightened for a while after that.  _

**_“I’m sorry about your house,”_ ** _ Revali said after a while, sounding cautious and sad.  _ **_“I know what it meant to you...”_ **

_ Link shrugged a little, unsure how to reply. He didn’t even know why he had become so upset earlier. Some part of him had known that the places he knew from his past would be different...would be destroyed. No building could stand on its own for one hundred years without some upkeep. And there had been no one to take care of his little house. It had decayed just like the rest of Hyrule... _

**_“I don’t believe it is all like that,”_ ** _ Revali said.  _ **_“I get glimpses of the village sometimes...Rito at least seems to be...in decent shape. I’m sure there are some places that haven’t been...”_ **

_ He trailed off for a moment with a sigh.  _ **_“It doesn’t help to think like this, does it?”_ **

_ Link shook his head. He knew that much, at least.  _

**_“Well...at least_ ** **_you_ ** **_are here,”_ ** _ Revali mused, holding tighter to him again.  _ **_“I don’t think I’ve earned the right to ask for anything more.”_ **

_ They fell quiet again, and Link glanced once around the space they were in. He tried to see through the fog, but it was useless. It was still too thick, too dark for him to get a sense of where they were. Not that it mattered very much in the end. Revali was here, that was all that mattered to him.  _

**_“The feeling is mutual,”_ ** _ Revali muttered, but it almost sounded like he was teasing.  _ **_“Your company, as stoic and surly as it is today, is a gift I’m not going to refuse. Even if you barely remember anything. You’re still you.”_ **

_ Link pushed himself up a bit, so they were facing each other. “I remember you.” _

_ Revali’s expression immediately changed.  _ **_“Yes,”_ ** _ he said carefully, not really meeting his eyes.  _ **_“But not all of it...”_ **

_ “It doesn’t matter,” Link signed quickly, furiously. “I will find the rest of them.” _

**_“I don’t doubt it.”_ **

_ Link frowned, and Revali finally met his eyes for a fraction of a second. Then he looked away. _

**_“I’m not going to pretend to be proud of all the things I have said to you, or of all the things that have happened,”_ ** _ he said very quietly, looking somewhere in the distance that Link couldn’t see.  _ **_“We...we_ ** **_promised_ ** **_each other that we wouldn’t...we promised that we would find a way, and I...”_ **

_ He shook his head rapidly, pushing up onto his feet and pacing the space. The fog moved back as he walks, and Link watched it flow away, until the space was about fifteen by fifteen feet wide. It was mostly square, and there were strange shapes all around, furniture or something like it, but Link couldn’t tell what they were when they were wrapped in fog.  _

_ Revali didn’t seem to care for the strangeness. He paced back and forth, his hands clenched behind his back and head bowed low. His taloned feet made distant, echoing sounds on the ground.  _

_ Link watched him for a few moments until he couldn’t take it anymore. He got to his feet and intercepted Revali in his path, grabbing him by the arms to stop him.  _

_ He jolted at the contact.  _ **_“What?”_ **

_ Link pulled a hand away, frowning. “You can’t do that.” _

**_“Do what?”_ **

_ “Not talk to me.” _

**_“Not—Link, I’m right here—”_ **

**_“No,”_ ** _ Link choked out, his voice hoarse and painful to use.  _

_ Revali jolted and stared at him with wide eyes, but he only shook his head frantically, too angry to afford any thought to his voice.  _

_ “No, you’re not,” he signed, his motions hard and stilted. “You’re  _ _ not. _ _ And I can’t get to you. I can’t, and it’s not  _ _ fair, _ _ and this is all we have. You can’t hide things from me when this is  _ _ all I have.” _

**_“Link.”_ **

_ “You can’t—you can’t—” _

**_“Link,”_ ** _ Revali said, more desperately than before, and it was enough to temporarily grab his attention.  _ **_“Breathe. Please breathe.”_ **

_ It was only then that he realized he hadn’t been, and suddenly he was gulping and gasping for air, clinging to Revali, his fingers digging into his arms in what must have been a painfully tight grip. He felt like he was seeing through a tunnel, like everything he was feeling was three steps removed from what was actually happening, like he was sinking into mud with no way out. He fumbled for some grip on himself, trying desperately to get enough air into his lungs, to stop this terrible falling.  _

**_“That’s it,”_ ** _ he heard Revali say distantly, and he could feel the feathered tips of his fingers on his arms.  _ **_“Breathe. Just breathe. I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m here.”_ **

_ He did not know how much time passed, or how many times Revali repeated the same sentiments over and over, until he could breathe again, and he felt like he had regained his space in his own body. His hands were shaking, tingling with tension, but he didn’t pull them away from their desperate grip on Revali’s arms. Doing so seemed like a terrible act, as if the moment he let go, Revali too would disappear into the fog, and he would be alone again.  _

_ Always alone.  _

**_“You’re not alone.”_ **

_ He shook his head, numb, not wanting to fight over what Revali believed and what he knew to be true. For all the mercies in these nightly talks, they ended, and Link woke up alone to pick up the pieces of himself and drag to the next destination. This time here was his only reprieve from that, but it was never enough.  _

_ Revali seemed to know what he was thinking, even if he said nothing to go against it. He only sighed, wilting a little and holding tighter to Link’s arms as if this would show him he was wrong.  _

**_“This isn’t permanent,”_ ** _ he said after a while, sounding like he was convincing himself as much as he was trying to convince Link.  _ **_“I won’t break my promise to you. We_ ** **_will_ ** **_find a way to each other again. It won’t all be this...this distant illusion. I won’t accept it. I’ll fight Hylia if I have to.”_ **

_ Link gave a wet laugh, but it was too choked to have any real happiness in it. Revali smiled a little, but it faded away. _

**_“We will win this,”_ ** _ he vowed, voice grave and heavy in all its seriousness.  _ **_“You are strong enough. I know you are. And this time...this time she will not fail you.”_ **

_ Link frowned at those words, the fuzziness that came with missing memories overwhelming him for a moment. He had a vague sense of what Revali meant, but not enough to agree or dispute his point.  _

**_“For now,”_ ** _ Revali went on, catching his attention again.  _ **_“All we can do is prepare. Get your strength back, and your memories, and then...then you’ll be ready to face what comes after.”_ **

_ “Then I come for you,” Link signed, watching Revali carefully as his tone had shifted toward that guarded sadness he had shown before. “Then I get you out.” _

_ Revali would not meet his eyes. He stared at his hands for a few seconds before nodding, looking pained.  _ **_“Yes.”_ **

_ Link watched him. There was something Revali was hiding from him, something he was keeping away, perhaps until he remembered more of their pasts. Something Revali was...ashamed of...that had happened.  _

_ But what, Link could hardly guess. All of his memories, so few that he had to hold, even those that were tinged now with regret and longing, they all had some happiness to them. Being with Revali had always carried with it a comfort, a belonging and understanding that Link did not recall finding anywhere else. His father was distant and saddened. Zelda did not like him, except for perhaps toward the end. Revali was the sole constant, the source of warmth and care, someone who he could be himself around without worry. Revali cared for him, in ways that no one else in his life had.  _

_ It seemed clear that Revali still cared for him...still...loved him. He was here, after all, and he worried over Link when he panicked or overexerted himself. He had promised to be here, as much as he could be.  _

_ And Link still loved him. Desperately.  _

_ But what had happened in their pasts to make Revali so...hesitant? There was something he was keeping from Link, something important.  _

_ Link could not imagine what it would be. What could be so terrible as to draw them apart? What could make Revali question whether they could find a way to each other again? _

_ They had  _ _ promised. _ _ It wasn’t a promise Link felt he was capable of breaking. It would kill him, more than...more than whatever had happened to him that day in the rain had killed him. If Revali didn’t...if he didn’t want to...no, he couldn’t even think it. He couldn’t. It would send him into the same panic he had fallen into only moments ago, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to pull himself out of it this time.  _

_ “Please stay,” he signed after a long silence, his hands still shaking from residual panic. “Please don’t go.” _

_ Revali stared at him for a moment before pulling him in, holding him in a tight grip, though Link could feel the tremor going through him.  _

**_“I’m not going anywhere.”_ **


End file.
